


Blind

by truc



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU, Injustice: Gods Among Us, Justice League - All Media Types, Superman - All Media Types
Genre: AU, Control, Despair, F/M, Friendship, Grief/Mourning, Hate, Hope, Humanity, Lies, Love, M/M, Monster - Freeform, Parenthood, Pregnancy, Prison, Revenge, Strength, Torture, Victory, Violence, Voice, Vulnerability, Weakness, balance, blind, blinded - Freeform, failure - Freeform, illusion, or lack thereof, prisoner
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-24
Updated: 2019-01-13
Packaged: 2019-07-07 00:33:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 23
Words: 36,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15897282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/truc/pseuds/truc
Summary: As like the game and comics, Catwoman turns on Batman's rebellion in order to get his life spared by the Regime. Kal El promises her Batman would not die. Unlike the game and comics, (that timeline's) Batman get imprisoned by his former best friend before anyone from another world can get summoned.This is the opportunity for the seed of humanity left in both Kal El and Batman to flourish... or wither.





	1. Cornered

"We got you surrounded, Bruce," Superman smirked, "You can't escape your fate any longer."

Batman didn't bat an eye at his secret base being invaded by the Regime, "Fate has nothing to do with it."

Diana simply groped her lasso, "Stand down, Bruce. We won't kill you. We are putting an end to this useless resistance."

Batgirl and Batwoman went into their fighting stances. The stoic Batman stood his ground, "You and all of your Regime are corrupted, Diana. You need to be stopped."

"And how do you propose stopping us?" Hal snorted, "Magic? Again? Or dragging in the Gods? Or the Lanterns? How many must die for your stupid ideal? We are protecting Earth from people like you."

With one swift movement, Batman dropped his smoke grenades. Kal El knew taking in Bruce would mean some fighting and had been ready for it. He whirled his arms until the area was cleared.

"Get Batman," Kal gritted, "We can't let him escape again. The Resistance needs him as their symbol. Don't kill him. He's mine to deal with."

Hal and Wonder Woman nodded and ran in the obvious escape tunnels. Kal calmed down and concentrated on hearing Bruce's heartbeat. It had been a long time since he had searched for him like that. Normally, Bruce made sure to be hidden under levels of leads. This hideout was not an exception. They wouldn't have found them here if it was not for Selina's cooperation.

Kal El ripped the floor off to see another passage. Without respite, he flew in it until he had caught up with Bruce's heartbeat, "Stop hiding, Bruce. Don't make me hurt you more than I have to."

A kick came from the dark shadow Kal had felt the heartbeat, "I'm not hiding."

They still had the superhuman pills, apparently, Kal thought as he ducked under the leg, "Aren't you? You always were like a rat, Bruce, sniping at people from your hiding spot. Nobody is ever perfect enough for you. So, you feel you have to drag them down to your level."

A low kick headed in Kal's direction, "I don't need to drag you down, Kal. You've stooped so low you're the one that wants to drag me down to your level."

Kal parried the kick but realized it was a feint in the way Bruce changed his weight to propel his other leg into Kal's face.

"You were a better man once, Kal. I can't stand seeing you fall and keep falling lower until you reach the bottom."

Kal wiped the blood on his chin, "I'm what this world needs. Salvation. Not some restless vigilante looking for fights."

Bruce's hook hit him square in the temple. Kal rolled with the hit, "How long do you have left of your pill's effect?"

"Enough to beat you up," Batman grunted as he sent a straight punch. Kal took another hit and used his freeze breath to try and immobilize the man. Batman evaded his attack and spun into a kick tumbling Kal away. It hurt like hell, Kal thought as he rose furiously.

Wonder Woman appeared at his side, "Let's end this." With her by his side, they managed to subdue Batman as the pill's effects ended.

She tied Bruce's arms together with the Lasso in a way that strained his shoulders. Kal angrily ripped off Batman's cowl, "You're not so brave anymore, are you?"

"At least, I'm not coward enough to order Szasz to kill someone I didn't want to deal with personally," Bruce answered. Diana raised an eyebrow, "What are you talking about?"

"You should ask Kal what he did with Alfred."

Diana glanced at Kal hoping he would deny his involvement. He stayed quiet as he studied the man in front of him.

How many times did he thank heaven for his best friend? How many times since Joker killed his wife and child along with Metropolis did he want to end this man's life?

Bruce always messed things up. Muddied the things that should have been simple.

"Did you get Szasz to kill Alfred?" Diana asked.

"Yes," Kal confessed, "He was helping Bruce out, after all."

"Alfred had not gone into hiding because he was not helping the Resistance!" Bruce snarled in the restraints, "He wanted Damian to have a place to go back to and you coldly got him murdered to hurt me."

Kal forced Bruce's chin up, "You have to learn how to be more obedient, Bruce, or it will continue to hurt."

Bruce spat in his face. Kal wiped it off while his eyes started glowing red, "It seems you need to be taught a lesson."

Bruce defiantly looked him in the eyes. Diana touched Kal's shoulder, "Remember, you promised not to kill him."

"I won't," Kal answered, his voice fluttering in anger. The eyes had to go.

With one careful blast of Kal's laser vision, Bruce fell writhing and groaning in pain on the ground. Kal felt satisfaction Bruce would no longer be able to look defiantly at him ever again. Diana knocked Bruce unconscious and Kal glared at her, "Did I tell you, you could knock him unconscious?"

"No," she replied, eyes narrowing at him, "Since when do I need your permission to do anything?"

"You pity him?"

"Hardly," Diana coldly answered gathering Bruce's unconscious form into her arms. She went up the passage.

"Hal, where are Batgirl and Batwoman?" Kal called on his comms still looking in the direction Diana had gone toward.

"They managed to escape," the reply came in, "Did you get Bruce?"

"We did," Kal answered.

"That's good news," Hal answered.

Kal hung up and remembered Bruce's defiant eyes looking at him. Burning his eyes was something in the way of getting paid for all the troubles but, Kal needed to do something more to get even. He made another call, "Sinestro?"

"Reporting for duty," the hateful voice answered.

"Take a team and kill Catwoman."

There was a pause, "I gather she provided flawed information?"

"No, we even caught Batman with her information. However, she will do anything to save his life. I don't doubt she will turn on us for him again. Besides she did ask me not to kill Batman. I never promised I wouldn't kill her. Kill her or do you, too, take issue with my orders?"

The Yellow Lantern laughed, "No, I don't take issue with it. In fact, it will be my pleasure."

"Good," Kal hung up.

The Regime was really shaping up. Bruce and himself had been fighting for five years. It was time to bring this fight to a close.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first four chapters are more or less done. I should be able to release them at the rate of one per day. After the fourth chapter, the releases will take a bit more time to come out.


	2. Caged Part 1/3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What sort of prison do you need to lock up Batman?

"We got Catwoman," Sinestro reported from the comm," She was feisty but, we overwhelmed her."

"Good," Kal hung up.

Superman looked at the uncowled and very unconscious Batman still tied to the Lasso of truth. He wanted to hit him and bleed him for all the man had done to him. He had to cross his arms over his chest to keep from physically administrating his punishment.

"What are we going to do with him?" Diana asked, looking concerned.

"A public execution?" Hal offered, poking irreverently at the silent form.

Kal cringed at the action.

"We promised Catwoman we wouldn't kill him," Diana glared at Hal.

"She's dead," Kal commented. Diana and Hal looked at him in horror. Hal asked, "She's what now?"

"Dead. You heard her. She was only switching sides because she thought they were losing and she didn't want him to die. The Regime can't arbour such a wildcard."

Hal and Diana exchanged a look. Diana frowned at Kal, "Couldn't we have lobotomized her instead? We do it with villains, after all."

Kal glared at her, chest held out, "Are you rebelling against my decisions?"

"No," Diana carefully enunciated, "I'm just uncertain why you treated her and Alfred worse than the villains we captured."

She didn't shy away from Kal's eyes and he had to remember she was his moral support. Diana had always been by his side. Therefore, Kal turned to Hal, "Is that what you think too?"

Hal stepped back with pacifying hands up, "No. I really don't care." If there was a slight tremble in his voice, it must have been Kal's imagination.

"Good," Kal replied, "I have a few ideas on what to do with Bruce. The first thing we should attend to is making sure we can contain him somewhere secure. Losing him to the Resistance will restart this senseless war. Any suggestions?"

"The Fortress of Solitude?" Hal suggested.

Kal scowled at him, "My parents are there. I'm not putting them in danger just to make sure Bruce can't make trouble."

Diana gestured exasperatedly, "I doubt there is anywhere else Bruce or the Resistance would have trouble getting in. They are the high tech specialists after all..."

"Shouldn't Cyborg be able to shut them out?" Hal asked.

"I wouldn't just count on one line of security to stop Batgirl," Kal retorted.

For a moment, they pondered any other failsafe place to imprison Batman.

"I know you said no to the Fortress of Solitude, but why not send him to the Phantom Zone?" Diana asked.

Hal nodded, "Good idea."

Kal shook his head, "No, we can't do that." The other two looked surprised at his refusal.

"Why not?" Diana questioned, perplexed.

"Time doesn't pass in the Phantom Zone. It's a way to keep things from changing. In some ways, that would mean Bruce has won; he always wants things to keep their status quo. I'm not letting him win."

Hal and Diana exchanged another quick look. With his speed, Kal had no difficulty seeing them do it and he gripped harder his arms to keep from snapping at them.

"Then," Hal slowly said, "Why not use your Kryptonian technology to imprison him in the Watchtower? It will provide him with an additional security to block Batgirl out."

Kal looked at Hal and saw the man flinch minimally away, "That might actually work."

Diana's hard gaze found Bruce's prone figure, "Good, it's settled."

The rest of the ride was quiet as each of them seemed to be lost in their own thoughts.

***

First thing Kal did when their ship accosted on the Watchtower was to make the preparations for Bruce's cell: Cyborg was instructed on how to incorporate both technologies together while Kal went searching for some transportable crystal to implant Kryptonian technology.

After giving Cyborg the crystal to finalize the cell, Kal flew to see his prisoner. He wasn't surprised to see Hal hitting Bruce in the jaw while Hawkgirl stood by idly. Kal hated it when Hal would take it in his head to make his own rules.

"Hal, stop," Kal snapped at the man before he could hit again a still defiant looking Bruce Wayne, even with sightless eyes.

Yellow Lantern Hal glowered at Bruce, "Did you hear what he just said? He said that we are so scared we are idiots running around without our wits."

Kal squeezed Hal's shoulder hard, "I know how good Bruce is at getting under people's skin. But, you have to follow my rules, Hal. I said no touching him." Bruce tilted his head at the sound of Kal's voice.

Hal's breath hitched and he truly smelled like fear to Kal's advanced senses. The courageous man was scared witless. Damn Bruce for being right about Hal.

Kal furiously shoved Hal away, "Go, I'll talk to him." Hal and Hawkgirl scuttered away.

"Does it feel good making your teammates fear you? Hurting them just because you can?" Bruce casually asked, blood still dripping from his nose.

Kal had always been about control of his actions. With only a reckless flick of his finger, he could kill someone. It was harder than ever to swallow the bitterness and not kill Bruce here and there.

"You were the one who always strove to inspire fear. I'm just implementing order and peace," Kal hissed at Bruce.

Bruce snorted, "Many people do not want your 'peace', Kal. Are you going to force them or kill them? Blind them as you did with me so they can't 'see' how wrong your Regime is?"

Kal's feet touched the floor as he stopped floating, "You've always been blind to other people's pain and suffering, weren't you, Bruce? I just made it obvious to everyone that you are blind so no misunderstanding can come up. Besides, you hate being weak and this will force you to rely on other people for once," he said as he stalked towards the blind man. Bruce's defiant expression faltered at the reminder he could never see again.

Kal sensed the weakness as a shark would sense a prey and he smiled, "That's right. You are forever going to be visually impaired. The blind bat too old to navigate the changing world. I want Earth to thrive and I won't let you stop progress, Bruce. You could never cope well with change. Well, at least, you won't have to see it."

"What are going to do with me?" Bruce quietly asked.

Kal walked until he was face to face with Bruce. There was something thrilling and impressive to be glared at by a sightless man. Kal had chills as he whispered, a breath away from Bruce's lips, "I still have used for you, don't worry. You'll make a fine bait, don't you think?"

Bruce calmly stated, "They are not going to fall for it. Survival of the Resistance is more important than me. They know that."

"Oh. I thought the Resistance was so tied to you, it would be hard to continue without you as their figurehead," Kal smirked. He caught Bruce's hair in his hand and forced his head back, forcing his vulnerable neck forward, "Hal wanted a public execution. You should be grateful I refused, Bruce."

Bruce responded, "Why should I be grateful? Since her death, you did nothing I should be grateful for."

The backhand came out of nowhere. Kal let Bruce's hair go, "Don't you ever talk about her again."

More blood fell from Bruce's mouth, "You are scared she wouldn't approve of you being a dictator? She was one of the most outspoken spokespeople for democracy."

Kal hit him hard, almost hard enough to snap the man's head, "Shut up!" Before it could go into a murderous territory, Kal stalked out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note 1: For those who don't know, Clark Kent's parents are in Fortress of Solitude ever since the United States kidnapped them at the beginning of year one to blackmail Superman into stopping his interferences into the political landscape. The Justice League (minus Batman and others) saved the parents and united against the world's leaders. The Kents don't really approve of Superman's dictatorship.
> 
> Note 2: Again, in year one of Injustice, the Teen Titans that didn't die in Metropolis explosion nor agreed with Superman's Regime are locked in the Phantom Zone after Superboy got hit by Superman in the heart (a deadly wound if not for the time-stopping properties of the Phantom Zone). So, when Kal refuses to send Bruce there, it is actually because Red Robin (Tim Drake) would be reunited with his mentor and that's almost a good ending for Batman. Kal is the only one aware of the Teen Titans' location.


	3. Caged Part 2/3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce's "cage" is almost ready. Kal is not.

Kal wandered the halls of the Watchtower with the anger still seeping out like a pierced bucket courtesy of his earlier conversation with Bruce. When they had been best friends, a lifetime ago, Clark had appreciated the sheer and utter fearlessness of Bruce in addressing beings infinitely more powerful than himself, Superman included, in such an irreverent manner. Now, it galled him.

They needed to secure the infuriating man as soon as possible. Kal didn't want to restart another game of cat and mice with Bruce. If there was one thing Bruce was good at (except being stubborn), it was disappearing into shadows.

"Cyborg," Kal called out as soon as he entered the superhero's quarter, "Did you manage to combine the two technologies together as per my direction?"

The man lifted his head, "Yes. I followed your orders. The Kryptonian technology will serve as a carapace to Batman's cell's wall, stopping anything that is not you from entering. It was harder to integrate the basic necessities functions into it but, I'll give it another test. I think I got it right this time. If it works, I'll simply need the night to implement it in the proposed location."

"Good," Kal breathed out, as he overlooked the strangely dissonant white walls surrounded by the human and alien type of technologies, "Do it now."

Cyborg nodded and typed into the specialized computer.

"Is it already done?" Diana's voice sounded from behind them.

"We are testing it," Cyborg answered.

"Break it, Diana," Kal ordered still looking at the majestic thing in front of him. She looked at the thing dubiously before taking out her sword, "With pleasure," she smirked.

Cyborg's face showed a hint of hesitation as she ran with the sword held high towards his invention. Diana struck at it several times and doesn't even leave a mark on it, "It seems secure."

Kal shot his beams at it and it left it unscathed, "I was right to believe in you, Cyborg. You have not disappointed me."

Cyborg gave a small nod, "Thanks," and he promptly departed to attend to the last details.

Diana sheathed her sword, "I can suggest a way to get rid of some of your frustration."

He frowned at her, "I'm not frustrated."

"You're in a mood. I'm sure we have a way to take the edge off..." One hand suggestively caressed his neck while she leered at his lips. This is why he loved her so much. Diana could always read his bad moods and cheer him up.

"As tempting as that is," Kal answered as he puts his hands around her strong back, "I'd feel better after he is locked up."

"There's not much he can do, Kal, against us," she whispered in his ear, "We are Gods." She bit deeply into his ear, and he felt the blood trickling down his neck, reminding him they are both equals among lesser beings. They always were unrivalled in strength in the Justice League. That's why Bruce had once tried to pitch them against one another. He had always been the weakest link of the Trinity.

Kal felt his blood rushing to his head, momentarily savouring the thought of Bruce's capture and simultaneously tasting Diana's divine mouth. This was the end of the Resistance. Maybe it was time to celebrate the end of an era and their dominance of a new one.

"Diana, where?" Kal asked as he passed a hand into her silky hair.

"Mine," her eyes gleamed as she tugged him to her bedchamber. Within three minutes, it was a mess. Diana liked the thrill of the fight and always added it in their sex life. Kal wanted to get hurt. Wanted to hurt. It evened out.

It was still not enough to make him forget Lois.


	4. Caged Part 3/3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The bat is put into his cage.

The sun greeted him as always, a welcome caress upon his skin.

Diana was getting dressed up and he had the lazy pleasure of watching her strong ruthless body slip into Amazonian conventions. Everything about her screamed out strength and beauty. She was unmarred by this world's ugliness, unanchored by this world's laws. Even if she came from Earth, sometimes, it seems she's the Savior, the acclaimed miracle everyone says he is. Some part of him wondered, had she been male, whether she would have been the one called Superman instead of him.

The delicate bed material rubbed against his skin. Clark couldn't indulge in the pleasure of sleeping in. The world needed a Leader to save itself from destruction and Kal had become that symbol, the World's Savior. Kal and Diana had unified the world with the Justice League's help. Only dangerous radicals thought otherwise.

"Are you coming, Kal? Mr. Terrific has another solar program to present," Diana's confident voice interrupted the flow of his thoughts.

He smiled, "Give me a minute. I'll just absorb a bit more sun."

She wore her tiara, "I'll go first, then." She was gone with the soft thud of the door.

Clark looked at the ceiling trying to avoid thinking of anything. He sighed when it failed then remembered Bruce had been arrested the day before. His eyes turned in the general direction and observed the man still tied up in the same spot as yesterday, the dried blood still caking his face, his hair and his nose. The sightless man couldn't have slept in the uncomfortable position he was in. Some of Clark's stray thoughts were bent on nagging Bruce on the importance of taking care of his health but, seeing that he, himself, was the one responsible for Bruce's bad shape, Clark dismissed those thoughts as ridiculous.

Kal had a lot of business to take care of today. He'd save Bruce as his special treat later today, just to remind himself of just how much he had accomplished yesterday.

***

"Any other meeting or decisions I have to make today?"

"Not that I'm aware of," Cyborg cautiously answered.

Diana rose up in her tight pants that stretched over her powerful thighs, "That's it for today, then."

Superman glanced in Cyborg's direction, "Now that the tests are over, I'll bring Bruce to the cell and lock him up. Make the final adjustments."

Cyborg nodded and the other members escaped the room before Kal's good mood evaporated as it is liable to happen. Damian sent one glance Kal's way, failing to catch his attention, before moving out of the room.

"Kal," Diana sharply called out when the room was emptied.

"Yes?"

"You're going to see him again," she plainly stated with a touch of disapproval.

"Yes," Kal answered without shame.

She sighed and gently touched his arm, "Just lock him up and forget about him. You were more restless than ever last night."

Kal glared at her, "That's only because of my nightmares. You know I have those..." Like always, his voice trembled as he alluded to Lois's and his child's death.

Diana's eyes caught him in a penetrating look. After a moment, she declared, "We won." Her voice softened as she said, "We are saving all unborn children from dying at the hands of a madman. I'd say that's a victory to celebrate."

Kal plastered a smile, "It is, Diana. I just need time to process it."

Diana nodded, "Take your time, Kal. I'll manage things in the meantime." She departed. Kal mouthed as if convincing himself, "We won." It still felt like a dead weight in the stomach.

Finally, Kal entered into Bruce's current holding cell. The guards saluted him, Bruce's face did not so much as twitch.

"All of you out," Kal callously ordered. They immediately obeyed, except for Bruce of course.

"Bruce."

Bruce didn't answer him.

Kal paced, "You're back at using your childish silent treatment against me. How often did I tell you it was undignified behaviour in an adult?"

Bruce didn't react.

"I don't usually enjoy torture but, I think I'll enjoy breaking you," Kal slowly drawled. Maybe that would help it feel more like a victory, like an accomplishment instead of the hollowness he felt deep in his body.

Bruce scoffed, "You sound like a cheap villain." Kal winced.

He then punched Bruce in the kidney, tempering the strength of it at the last second to avoid killing him. The prisoner made a muffled out noise. So weak. This punch wouldn't have even given Diana pause. Why had anyone even included Bruce in the Trinity? Why had Superman and Batman ever been called the World's Finest?

"Do continue talking, Bruce. I'm just waiting for one good excuse to cut your arms and feet off," Kal whispered as he yanked Bruce's head up, pleased with the sound he had forced out of Bruce. The prisoner's sightless eyes aimed a defiant look in his general direction.

"Or would you prefer a lobotomy?" Kal whispered directly into Bruce's ear. Bruce's responding stillness confirmed losing his mind is more worrying for him than his limbs. Kal smiled at the reactions he had been receiving from the famously stoic man. Of course, for anyone who didn't know Bruce, these reactions may have been insignificant, however, for someone like Kal, who could hear every little hitch in anyone's breathing pattern and heart and who had known Bruce for as long as he had, this had the stamp of victory on it. Finally, Kal was feeling the satisfaction he had thought he would feel at putting an end to the Resistance.

Kal almost licked his lips while he was wondering what kind of reactions he could garner. He had to be careful not to kill Bruce too quickly.

"You're just a silly little man dressed as a bat with too much pride to admit your weaknesses," He forced Bruce's head even further backwards.

Bruce concentrated for a moment and Kal could see the change operated in his former friend's stance. Kal used his other hand to touch Bruce's dried blood on his cheek. There was no reaction at all. Bruce was dissociating, as Kal had seen him do when tortured.

A sound from Kal's comm sounded and the Kryptonian let the man's head fall and he stepped back. The man's head dropped forward as Bruce's neck's muscles slacked.

"Yes?" Kal asked, still warily watching Bruce's form as it would suddenly disappear.

"It's ready," Cyborg explained.

Kal nodded, "Perfect. I'll bring him there now."

Bruce didn't react when Kal unbonded him except to stand squarely on his legs.

"We made an adequate cage to keep a bat, Bruce," Kal mocked. The subsequent lack of reaction infuriated him even further. He forcefully grabbed Bruce's arm and tugged him hard behind him, "Keep up or I'll carry you in a way that's going to hurt you more."

Bruce despondently walked, seemingly disoriented and lost. Although he knew this was probably part of Bruce's technique to be underestimated, Kal felt like a parent dragging his child with him on his shopping trip. The thought chafed uncomfortably his heart and mind. His child would have been five...

Clark's breathing accelerated and he felt the knife edge of an anxiety attack striking him. Where were Diana and her calming voice? He needed something to concentrate on. Something to keep him from breaking down. From being weak.

His hand convulsively gripped on Bruce's barely covered arm and he heard a hitch in the man's breathing. Clark looked at his former friend and heard his metronome-like heartbeat.

Clark focused on Bruce's heartbeat and his respiration eased.

After a moment, he realized they had stopped walking in the middle of the section of the Watchtower only accessible to authorized personnel. Clark took another look at the human and he could see Bruce had been trying to familiarize himself with the fact he was blind and might have difficulty navigating the Watchtower now that Clark's team had changed the layout.

No matter, Bruce hadn't asked any questions. He stood, probably waiting for an opportunity to escape. Kal gripped the arm even harder and he could feel the bones creak at the pressure.

Kal exhaled and continued the walk to Bruce's new cell. Cyborg was waiting for them and he was wise enough not to say a word at Bruce's dishevelled and bloodied appearance nor Kal's angry demeanour.

"Show me how to lock him up," Kal demanded, his angry tone reverberating loudly against the walls.

Cyborg swallowed and indicated the open room, "Make him enter the room and we can close it behind him."

Kal pulled Bruce until the man was in front of him and he shoved him in the direction while ordering, "Move."

Bruce stumbled forward and moved his arms to find some sort of structure to support himself. His hands found the crystal-like walls of the Fortress of Solitude and Bruce's eyebrows furrowed in thought.

Cyborg turned his gaze to Superman and pointed to the panel, "Now, enter the Kryptonian command for closing doors."

Kal typed it and the crystal 'ball' engulfed Bruce in its stomach.

Kal lifted an eyebrow, "That's it?"

Cyborg nodded, "Only the correct command can open the door and only your touch can activate it. If someone tries to do it while you are unconscious, the door won't open."

Kal examined the crystal-like wall, "Can he hear us or anything other than what is happening in the cell?"

"Only if you write the command for that."

Clark used his vision to see Bruce mapping the small room with his hands and feet, "Is it possible to see him?"

"Again, if you give the command for it."

"Food? Water? Toilet?" Kal asked.

"The cell takes care of his basic needs," Cyborg replied.

"Can someone slip him something with the food or water?"

"No," Cyborg explained, "Your Kryptonian technology is outstandingly advanced. The cell generates the energy to create the food and water separately than the Watchtower. It's like a vessel inside another vessel: impervious to all of the first vessel's weakness."

"So Cyborg, that means that nothing should be able to enter that cell?"

Cyborg shook his head, "Technically, except for you or you granting someone permission, the only way to enter the room is a higher technology or magic. I have asked Raven to put a protection against magic users. It should make it more difficult for anyone else to enter."

"Good job, Cyborg. You may go." Cyborg went.

Kal's eyes flitted to rest on Bruce sitting to the crystal textured bench. Completely cut off of human contact.

Kal grinned in satisfaction and turned to seek Wonder Woman to celebrate another small step for mankind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The initial set-up is finally over. Things are going to get much more interesting, if not messed up, starting next chapter.


	5. Isolated

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A week has gone by.

Time went by as Superman made sure to uphold his role as Earth's ruler. Plans for new green energy construction were moving quickly along as they had mobilized the man force needed to implant it. Meetings with regional managers served as a baseline to establish the new priorities for each section. Crime rates kept going lower. The Regime was focusing their attention on stopping piracy and food shortage. The Regime helped researchers fund their research on vaccines and cancer treatment. Those were the things Superman attended to. 

There were barely any villains or resistance members left to find and arrest ever since pictures and videos of a captured Batman had been released. Of the few that was still on the Resistance's side, many turned themselves in. Not Harley Quinn, Batgirl or Batwoman, of course, but they had no army left to be much of anything.

Kal was bored.

He had always hated the minutia of ruling. He was a figure to inspire or to choose a decisive course of action, not to deal with more and more detailed and specific information about the best location for a particular project.

Since Bruce's capture, Diana was gone more and more often to look for fights and Kal couldn't blame her for that restlessness.

Nowadays, when Kal grew bored, he would simply dismiss the meeting or walk out of the meeting with barely any explanations. More often than not, he went to visit the room housing Bruce's cell.

Not that he spoke directly to him anymore.

Since the day Bruce had been imprisoned in the Kryptonian crystal-like cell, the human had not uttered a single word. Kal hated being ignored. After the third day of speaking to a blank-looking and mute Bruce, Kal had flown into a gigantic rage. If not for the cell's strength, Kal would have killed his former best friend on the spot.

Ever since the third day, Kal simply didn't activate the cell's capacity for transmitting words to Bruce. He cut the video function of the room and he would speak or yell at someone who couldn't hear him.

In the beginning, he only had recriminations to tell the cell of his former friend. He repeated all the rhetorics they had perfected over years of war. Then, ever since Bruce couldn't hear him, he had started talking about his former teammates.

"I overheard Barry and Hal talk today. Hal was condemning you for allying yourself with the devil. On how many people died because of your stubbornness at pursuing a useless fight. Do you know what Barry replied to him? He told him he could see why you turned to seek help from unsavoury quarters. Where else could you find help? The Justice League was against you and most villains have been tamed. That's a pitiful excuse for dragging in demons and devils into this. You don't have any pride left."

Kal had watched with indifferent eyes Bruce steady himself into mediation or go through a routine of exercises. The Kryptonian preferred making the cell transparent to give himself the illusion of an audience. After, of course, he had proof Bruce's optical nerves were too severely burned to function ever again.

Then, as Kal came more and more often, he had spoken of increasingly personal things.

"Diana thinks I am distancing again myself from everyone, that I am trying to shoulder the world's problem by myself. I don't know why she is so worried about that. I can take all of it and plod on. I always did so."

Somehow, Kal found himself coming more and more often to confide in the crystal walls imprisoning Bruce. It made him think of, an eternity before, all the times he would fly into the Batcave to recount whatever was troubling him. It wasn't much different from now. Back then, he would tell Bruce about the issues while the Bat attended to other matters. Once in a while, Bruce would have grunted or made a comment. Bruce had rarely chased him away.

Unfortunately, by the end of the week of Bruce's imprisonment, Kal discovered he wanted some interactions, not just to hear his own monologues. It was harder to have an actual conversation with anyone: Hal feared him, Barry was nervous around him, his parents disapproved of most of what he did and Diana had difficulty talking about anything other than work or comforting Clark. The others preferred not to interact too much with him. Maybe that was the price to pay to become Earth's Leader.

Still, Kal stared at the transparent wall behind which Bruce was doing a one-handed handstand. He touched the control panel and typed a command for Bruce to be able to hear what was being said outside the cell. Kal gently set one hand on the wall simmering under his touch and quietly called out, "Bruce."

The man's head snapped in his direction and he dropped his one-handed handstand. His mouth opened before his jaw clenched tight. Kal felt the minor misstep in Bruce's heartbeat. He knew he had to give another push. Bruce would then interact with him.

"I'm sorry it took so long to see you. They wouldn't let anyone see you," Kal paused and continued, more gently, "I'm glad to see you are well enough to do your exercises, Bruce."

Through gritted teeth, a furious Bruce answered, "You don't get to do that."

"Do what?"

Bruce snarled, "You don't get to betray me, then, pretend you care about me, Selina."

Kal smiled. Now, Bruce understood how he felt after Lois's death when Bruce would simply criticize him and refuse to help him.

"You may not believe me now, but, I do care. I always cared about you," Kal responded in Catwoman's voice.

Bruce seethed, "Are you here to mock me?"

Kal shook his head, giddy at reciting his character's lines, "I'm not. I just wanted to make sure they had upheld their part of the deal."

Bruce scowled in his direction, "Humiliating me?"

Kal softly answered, "Keeping you alive. That's why I sold off all of your secrets, all your codes."

"Don't lie," Bruce cut in, harsh, unforgiving, "You betrayed me to save your own hide." Kal knew him well enough to sense his profound brittleness hidden in his acerbity. Now, wasn't it interesting to know how Bruce was utterly devasted by his lover's betrayal? This felt like perfect revenge.

"You never learned when it was time to let things go, Bruce. We lost. It's time to admit it and live the best we can in this world."

Bruce's face shut out completely and Kal knew he had lost him. No matter. Kal had multiple voices he could mimic and Bruce would eventually respond to one of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who don't know, Superman has the power to mimic someone else's voice. It is one of his most underused power. 
> 
> Bruce can't even find it odd people talk to him without showing themselves, because he is blind.
> 
> As for why Bruce knows Selina betrayed him, there are four people who know about the portal (Batgirl, Batwoman, Lex Luthor and Batman) and four people who know about the hideout they were hiding in (Batgirl, Batwoman, Batman and Catwoman). Batman figures the traitor is not Batgirl nor Batwoman (they were with him at the hideout preparing to summon the other dimension's Justice League). That leaves Catwoman. 
> 
> That's all the chapters I have written. It'll take more time for the next one to get posted.


	6. Manipulated

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kal has some fun playing with puppets.

Kal didn't know why he hadn't thought that much about using his mimicking powers before. Bruce had all sorts of guests visiting him depending on Kal's moods. 

Bruce was living in a Kal-dominated world, literally: all subsistence he needed in order to live came from the Kryptonian's cell, all Bruce heard was said by Kal and all Bruce could feel, except for himself, was controlled by Kal. This god-like control of another's life, especially Bruce's, was such a delicious feeling for Kal to revel in. 

He would use Hal's voice when he wanted to deride Bruce ("You're such a high-handed asshole! God, you probably still think you're the one in the right, even now.") ; Damian's when he was angry ("Grandfather was right: I should never have sought you out. The only thing you ever did was kick me out."); Diana's when he was disdainful ("Are you proud of yourself? Making useless messes for us to clean up."); and Barry's when he wanted a more reasonable conversation ("You know, Bruce, sometimes, I wonder why you went through all the trouble to divide the Justice League. I mean, I understand you stand up for your principles and, on paper, that's virtuous, but have you ever asked yourself if you went too far? If you missed the right path somewhere along the line?"). For each voice, Kal had to remember the person's height, vocabulary, idioms and tics concerning their talking habits. 

Damian always stayed farther away from Bruce and he would lean on the wall to pretend nonchalance he wasn't feeling. Hal would come close to insult the Bat for a few minutes before exiting. Diana would coldly look down on the vigilante from mid-distance while Barry would hover nervously between close and mid-distance. 

Clark, being a good writer, would prepare his sentences in advance and recite them to Bruce by projecting his voice to suit the character's position in the room. He actually enjoyed the creative influence the restraints provided him. 

Some days, he would simply observe Bruce attend to his cycle of meditation, exercise, eating, fitful sleep and repeat. Some days, he would voice someone's thoughts and wait for a reaction. Unfortunately, more and more, Bruce ignored the visitors, internalizing all of his life inside himself. He barely responded to Hal or Diana any longer. He would sometimes answer Barry when the speedster spoke of neutral topics or pondered philosophical questions, but Kal hated not producing any emotional impact on the stoic man. 

Which is why the Kryptonian preferred using Damian's and Selina's voice, though he made sure not to overuse them either. 

Even though Damian's voice and subjects were clearly confrontational, Kal could feel Bruce listening to the voice with rapt attention even when he didn't answer him. It took a while for the superhero to figure out his former friend was simply content hearing his son's voice, not his spiteful recriminations. 

As for Selina, ever since the first day Kal had used the voice, Bruce had not responded to her directly. Nonetheless, Kal could see the physical changes in Bruce's stance whenever she talked and, strangely enough, her voice was Clark's favourite to use. 

Before the "incident", Clark had never quite understood why Bruce had had a thing for the Catburglar. She was a villain, for God's sake, and duplicitous at that. She had left Bruce high and dry several times before, disappearing whenever he was becoming too invested in her. 

If anything, that had irritated Clark. He had wanted his friend to enjoy a stable and serious relationship, the same as Clark had with Lois, as Bruce did deserve happiness. 

Since the "incident", Clark had been the one who had sought out Selina's presence to cheer up Bruce after Dick's accidental demise. He had wanted someone to help his friend through a difficult mourning period. Ever since that moment, some part of Clark was glad Bruce was not alone, drowning himself in his Mission without an emotional anchor, like the Robins at his sides normally were, to keep his humanity.

When Selina had betrayed Bruce, Kal had been about as mad with the action as he had been gleeful. "See?", he had wanted to tell Bruce, "Your taste in women is awful. Talia. Selina. Both betrayed you. I, on the other hand, always chose women who would be loyal to me: Lois and Diana."

Still, that's what Clark liked about Selina's voice: it had the ambiguity of supporting someone through infinite trials and of betraying that person to save them from their own self-destructive impulses.

Kal observed Bruce's controlled breathe going in and out of his lungs. Calm. Collected. Untouchable.

Kal needed to rattle his composure, needed to get something out of the man, something he wasn't sure of yet. 

Kal's lips curled up at the ridiculous thought. It was Melo's paradox all over again: "What a man knows he cannot seek, since he knows it; and what he does not know he cannot seek, since he does not even know for what to seek."

However, Kal was not one to back down from a challenge. He would figure out what he was seeking from Bruce and, for that, he needed more meaningful interactions with the person in question. Bruce had to contribute to the conversation. It was time to change techniques.

He opened his mouth and said the words women had, since the beginning of civilization, always told to rattle men.

"Bruce, I thought you should know. I'm pregnant."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note 1: "What a man knows he cannot seek, since he knows it; and what he does not know he cannot seek, since he does not even know for what to seek."  
> -Kierkegaard (a philosopher) explains Meno's paradox (part of Socrates's teachings) in these words. The original meaning is that we, humans, already have innate "knowledge" of things and we just rediscover it in our lives. Kal does not use the words exactly as they were meant to be.
> 
>  
> 
> This chapter and the following ones are why 'pregnancy' is part of the tags of this story.


	7. Dissembled

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kal says "he" (as Selina) is pregnant.

For a lengthy period, Bruce doesn't move from his position while all colour drained from his face.

"They can hear everything you say," The raspy voice finally enunciated with a taint of honest panic Kal had rarely heard in his voice.

Kal smiled: he had successfully baited him. "They know. I already told them it is yours."

Bruce's feature changed too fast for Kal to recognize all the emotions passing through. Fortunately, he could see the joy and fear written in the shift of his eyes, eyebrows, minute lips movement and other facial muscles.

"They'll threaten me..." Bruce mumbled, fingers turning white with the pressure he was using on the Kryptonian bench. Kal understood why Bruce felt scared and he wanted to use it. Unfortunately, he couldn't really use the imaginary child to threaten him into doing what he wanted. With the extended experience Batman had had with hostage-taking villains, Bruce would want quantified proof the kid was alive and his. Kal had sincere doubts he could trick him to that extent, especially if he used the card of blackmail so soon after the revelation.

Kal outwardly sighed, "Is that really what you think about your former best friend?"

Bruce's sightless eyes went in Kal's direction, something he hadn't done since the first time Selina had spoken. He was back on his guards. "What did they tell you?" Bruce gritted through his teeth.

Kal shrugged, falling into character, "You were the one who once told me he was the best man you've ever known."

Bruce dropped his 'glare' to aim his eyes on the floor, his shoulders falling from his defensive stance. He whispered, "I was wrong about that."

"Were you?" Kal asked. Silence met his question.

"You may not agree with everything he does, Bruce, but, after Dick's death, he was the one who asked me to help you in your mourning. He took Damian in, Bruce, because of you. He's not as much a monster as you represent him to be. He won't kill your innocent child to hurt you."

For a long time, the imprisoned man didn't say a thing nor did he move from his spot. Then, just as Kal was starting to chalk this attempt as a failure, Bruce quietly asked, "Why didn't you tell me?"

Kal used an annoyed tone, "What would it have changed, Bruce, if I told you I was pregnant? Would you have accepted my proposal that we go live in peace just the three of us? Would you have abandoned your Mission to be the father this child needs?"

Bruce's lack of response was enough to inflame him further, "I didn't want to bring a child into your struggling Resistance, didn't want a child to only know your damp hideouts and obsolete and absurd resistance. I wanted this child, your child, to live under the sun! You wouldn't have let me do it. I had to resort to this solution to save our child from your darkness." At the end of his tirade, Kal noticed his own cheeks were damp.

Hadn't he already had that discussion with Lois? If they should elope into a quiet and muted life, without superheroes and villains? Lois had told him no, that it wasn't right to isolate yourself from society, to hide. Life was meant to be lived in full colour.

Clark hated the colours of pain and loss his life had been drenched in.

"But you wouldn't have chosen our child's future! You had to try killing yourself, of self-sacrificing yourself in a war that's been lost for years!" Clark stopped himself. He knew he had sobbed in Selina's voice, still, it felt as if he had been talking from his own heart. Bruce had only turned his head in his direction, listening intensively to the speech.

Panic gripped Clark, overtaking him so quickly he could barely prepare himself. Clark could feel his own heart rate going up again, his hands looking for purchase to keep himself upright. Before his anxiety could get any worse, he typed information to mute his side of the cell. Then, he fell to the floor, his back touching the crystal looking cell, his shoulders heaving in heretic movement.

Why was there no word for the pain of losing a child? Not in English, not in Kryptonian.

Clark covered his face with his hands, trying to hide his weakness from this world that would use it to try to break him again.

Think good thoughts, his mind supplied.

He couldn't.

Even years after their death, Kal's grief would surge like a tidal wave, destroying everything in its wake. As soon as it had come, it was gone, leaving him keenly feeling the void in his stomach. Slowly, he stood and unmuted the sound.

"I'm selfish," Clark wiped his tears, calming down, "I don't care about the war you are fighting. The only thing I want is my child to grow up with both of his parents to guide them along the way. That they are not orphaned like the both of us. I want to be happy. Is it too much to ask, Bruce?"

The imprisoned man swallowed, clearly uncomfortable with the situation.

Clark waited for a beat for an answer before continuing, disappointment clear in his tone, "I see. I have to go."

Just as Kal was stepping out of the room after having switched the sound off, Bruce said, "Wait."

Clark blinked at the wall, using his vision to see how troubled his former best friend was. Bruce stood and walked in the direction Selina's voice had come from, "Are... are you going to come back?"

Kal gaped at his imprisoned foe before a smile widened. He floated to the control and unmuted the sound, "Do you want me to come back?"

Bruce pressed his hands hard against the wall, his arms straining from the effort and his face wreaked by uncharacteristic hesitation. Vulnerable. As delicious a surrounder as Kal had ever hoped for.

Kal gazed at the stoic man forcing the word out with sheer willpower, "Yes."

Kal felt like that cat that ate the canary, graceful in his smugness. "I'll come back, Bruce, but I refuse to continue talking at a blank wall." Bruce stilled and obediently nodded his head. Kal almost wanted to stay here and look at his admirable creation.

Unfortunately, he had a meeting he really couldn't miss. He gave his prisoner a small good-bye and went on his way.

Maybe Batman could be tamed after all, Kal smirked as he flew to his meeting.


	8. Deceived

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Preparing for a pregnancy.

"Boy or girl?"

It hadn't taken much time for Bruce to interrupt Selina's voice the next time Clark had had time to see his prisoner. Kal figured this was a major improvement over the previous silent treatment.

"Bruce, it's too early to tell yet." The prisoner gave a short nod and his face turned to the wall in front of him, no longer 'looking' in Kal's direction.

"But, I think it is a girl," Kal added just for effect. Bruce tilted his head in his direction, focalization abruptly on the Kryptonian.

Clark rubbed circles on his belly, liking the sensation of the motion on his skin, "I even thought of a name in case it is a girl." He didn't even know why he was grinning in such a ridiculous fashion while he said the words. Some neurons must have misfired since his mind made the absurd comparison of this moment and the one in which he had joyously told Bruce Lois was pregnant and had asked his best friend to be their kid's godfather. Kal shook the ludicrous parallel away and concentrated on the guilty man in front of him.

Kal thought that would be sufficient to bait Bruce into another question, nonetheless, Bruce merely seemed lost in thought.

"Any names you like?" Kal finally prompted in a civil manner.

"It's too soon to discuss that," Bruce's subdued voice said after some time, "About a third of woman over forty loses their child before thirteen weeks."

Clark's stomach fell and his mouth dried up. Smooth, real smooth Bruce. You managed to remind your lover of her age and the possibility of miscarriage in one swell move.

"You're such a killjoy," Clark furiously snapped back, "I should have known better than to share my joy with you."

Bruce stared at the wall, clenching and unclenching his fists, "Selina, you have to be prepared for the worst."

"How many people do you know had a miscarriage?" Clark peevishly answered.

"My mom, for one," Bruce gently replied. Clark blinked. He, as Bruce's best friend, hadn't even known that.

"Did she really?" he pressed, slightly embarrassed at his prior belligerence.

"Yes."

Clark fell quiet and he looked at forlorn Bruce. How many secrets was he still hiding about his life before the 'incident'?

"I thought you would be more excited to have another kid. You've always wanted kids."

That was true. In the prior incarnation of the Justice League, Batman and Superman had been the most adamant ones to start a family, although Bruce hadn't been sure he wanted a spouse. Was it because they were both orphans trying to find a family to belong to?

"And you've never wanted any."

Clark swallowed and took a step back: was this charade already over? He didn't want to terminate this easy exchanges between them and return to indifferent and cold Batman.

"This was an accident, wasn't it?" Bruce sadly asked, some disappointment and anxiety tingling his voice.

Clark breathed much easier, "It... wasn't planned. But it was yours. I couldn't end it either."

Bruce closed his eyes and leaning his head on the wall, "Thank you, Selina, for not ending their life. Even if this world is messed up and cruel, I'd still rather have my kids live in it as pawns for Kal than die."

Clark could feel his innards twisting like pretzels, some oppressive feeling almost overwhelming him. It was the same type of burning feeling that had ravaged his body and mind at his wife's and child's death. Something he hadn't felt the sting in quite a long time.

"They won't be pawns in someone's game, Bruce, that I can promise you." The lie fell easily from Clark's throat, as he ignored the situational irony of his statement.

Bruce shook his head in defeat, "You already gave all your bargaining chips away, Selina. Your fate here is not even secured. Any day, now, they might lobotomize you."

"Bruce," Clark's Selina's voice called, "They are putting me on probation. I'm not the only turncoat either. I've seen how they treat Mr. Terrific."

"Mr. Terrific is one of humanity's utmost genius who can provide solutions to various environmental issues." 

Clark understood the other part of the answer because he had long lived with Bruce's implied answers and subtilities. From Bruce's answer, it was clear he saw the Regime as opportunists, dispensing of uselessness with unceremonious gestures. From Bruce's perspective, Selina had outlived her usefulness to the Regime except as hostage to get information out of Bruce. What could she, a glamorous thief, still offer a world-wide dictator?

"You're wrong," Clark frowned at his former best friend, "It's not like that. I work until I gain their trust. In exchange, I can ask privileges as I move up the echelons."

Bruce shrugged, dismissing Selina's claim with his usual obdurate nonchalance. 

Kal's face twisted in a rictus, hands clawing the cell's transparent crystal. He despised Bruce's depiction of his Regime as injust evil. 

Bruce had already opened up considerably today, compared to his usual indifference. Kal knew he shouldn't push too hard. Still, he needed to destabilize Bruce even further... 

Kal placidly watched his foe's form on the bench. With his extraordinary abilities, he could feel Bruce's well-hidden unease. The Kryptonian quickly recalculated the causes and he grew pensive at the realization of why Bruce was disquieted.

Kal had given his foe hope. 

Weary and battle-worn Bruce's heart had always been fragile under his intuitive cynism and his paranoid defensiveness. Hope could make his heart stronger and lower some of his defences. Broken hope could shatter the man's heart more thoroughly than physical torture. And Bruce knew the well-trodden path to his weakness. Knew stolen hope was a sure path to despair. 

Kal intimately also knew it.

When Kal's heart had shattered long ago, he'd been left with broken parts of it, scattered everywhere like a dropped crystal bowl on the concrete floor. 

He'd remake the world to save others' hope of happiness and normality. He'd sacrificed years to the making of this masterpiece. 

If he felt somewhat hollow despite his accomplishment, it was because the pieces of his heart were still scattered around.

Clark shook the sombre thought away and whispered before he could rethink his words, "I think I could convince Kal to release you for our child's birth, Bruce." 

Bruce's whole body trembled as his hands instinctively rose in front of his chest, "Stop lying to me, Selina. I can hear in your tone that not even you believe Kal would ever release me, especially to touch the child. He blinded me, Selina, to stop me from ever seeing them. I know he will use them against me. That even were they born, I'd never be allowed to touch them, to hold them." Bruce's arms shook while his voice transmitted his profound grief.

Clark was at a loss of words, "I..."

"Go, just go, Selina," Bruce waved her away, "I'm tired. We'll talk later."

Clark knew that Bruce hadn't even slept since their 'pregnancy' discussion yesterday. Plus, emotional talks were always extremely taxing on Bruce. He could already calculate how a conversation with your traitor lover who was pregnant with your child while you were their boss's prisoner cost Bruce. 

Clark nodded and gently said, "I'll go, Bruce. Sleep tight, okay?" Bruce gave him a curt nod and rolled himself in bed, having probably no idea if this was nighttime or not. 

Clark switched off the sound and watched silently over him until he could hear the inert figure breathe in regularly. With his real voice, Clark whispered fondly and protectively to him, "Sweet dreams, Bruce," before quietly closing the door behind him.


	9. Pied

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pied (acccording to the Cambridge English dictionary's definition) : (used especially in the names of birds) having fur or feathers of two or more colours, usually black and white.
> 
> Quiet chapter about pied Clark.

If there was one thing Clark knew about Bruce, it was that whenever he had poured his heart out in a conversation, the next time they conversed, Bruce would be sulking.

At the start of their friendship, Clark had felt ignored. Later on, he caught on: Bruce would feel as if he had revealed too much of his vulnerabilities. If Clark wanted things to return to normal, the next conversation was his to maintain and he would have to tell Bruce something personal.

Therefore, it didn't surprise Kal all that much when he saw that Bruce didn't respond to his 'hello' the next time they met after the 'miscarriage' fiasco. Clark sat, his back facing Bruce and started saying his piece, "Bruce, yesterday, I had permission to visit what is now Gotham."

Silence. Kal knew this was a subject Bruce would listen to.

"I decided to visit the Museum I used to rob. I paid my way in, this time, and I took my time exploring it. The exhibits hadn't changed. Well, except for the fact they didn't include anything strange like penguins' memorabilia, or cat's or mummy's. I wonder why they would always choose things related to a villain. Pingouin had to rob it when it was about him. I just had to rob when it was cat related. And your strange mummy villain had to rob when it was mummy-related. Maybe it was the museum's way of staying in the news, free publicity if you will."

The cell was quiet as a tombstone.

Clark sighed and leaned back, "The halls were the same. The exhibits were the same. Even the security hadn't changed." It was true. Clark had researched the subject to be more believable as Selina.

"Do you know what changed, Bruce?"

No answer came. Good thing Clark wasn't waiting for one.

"It was empty." Even the Museum's workers had seemed absent when Superman had flown through it.

Selina's voice continued, "I remember the nights we met down there. The chase, the adrenaline, the prize..." Kal wisely avoided the mention of how that chase sometimes ended, in seared kisses and passion. That would be overdoing it. Besides, that was tabloid rumours, not verified facts. What was verified facts was who would fight/catch Catwoman stealing from the museum over the years. Batman. Batman and Robin. Batman. Batman and Robin. Violent Batman. Batman and Robin. Other Batman and Robin. Batman and Robin...

"Now, it's all empty."

Clark waited in silence, his back touching the wall, thinking of how this was his best way to 'talk' sincerely to his former best friend.

Bruce's low voice answered him after a long pause, "Don't."

"And what exactly shouldn't I do?" Selina's purring voice responded.

"You already know. Stop it."

Clark looked at his big hands, too strong to be Selina's crafty ones, yet understanding exactly what Bruce was asking of him.

"Goodnight, Bruce," Clark pronounced before muting the sound. He sighed. Everything he said had to be a metaphor for something else. It doesn't mean he didn't want to also tell the truth.

"Bruce, do you remember Maggy's pie? We'd always go to the diner who served it. You'd order black coffee and I'd ask for Maggy's famous pie, which was even better than Ma's, though I never did get around to admit it to her. Anyway, you would always grumble about Metropolis's shininess, cleanliness and lack of depth. If I ever said one bad thing about Gotham, you'd scowled at me and refuse to talk to me. Only Gothamites could insult Gotham, you'd claim in a gruff voice. How many times did we meet there? I'd talk and talk and, sometimes, you would interrupt me to correct something I told you. God, you were always such a perfectionist."

Clark paused and tilted his head to look at the beautiful blue-tinted crystal wall behind him, something he had come to associate with loneliness.

"The only time someone else came with us was when I invited Lois to hang out with us. I was already planning on asking her hand in marriage. I wasn't sure how you would take it that I had shared one of our friendship's secrets with an outsider. You didn't even blink at the change. You and Lois argued the whole time I ate my delicious pie. She was saying all corporations should be forced to more transparency. You said privacy law should protect them from harassment as long as they didn't do anything criminal. It was the last time I invited her to the diner."

Clark's hands played with his bright red cape, trying to remember that its colour hadn't changed from back then.

"One time, you even bought and analyzed Maggy's pie to see if there was a special ingredient in it. You knew I could watch them prepare it or analyze the pie with my vision, yet, you still analyzed it." Clark chuckled. "'There's nothing special in it,' you'd tell me." Clark gulped and touched his forehead with his palms, "Nothing special..."

"I miss Maggy's pie. I know I should miss people instead of a pie: Jimmy, Perry, Lois, our child or the countless civilians who died that night... I can't help it; I miss Maggy's pie. Even if it was only special to me."

Clark furrowed his eyebrows at an unseeing Bruce doing mediation cross-legged on the floor, "You were responsible for the loss of its taste. You killed it in your weakness towards Joker."

Kal snarled and hit the unflinching cell walls once, "Lois was my anchor. When she died, Bruce, she was weightless in my useless arms, the ones who failed her. When she died, the responsibility of Earth's rested squarely on me. I had to be strong, to ally myself to dubious people to serve Earth's best interests. You rejected the responsibility of helping me with one callous word: freedom. I instead call it indifference."

Kal roared, "I took my revenge on Joker. I'll take mine on you for all you made me lose while you were washing your hands of the mess. Their blood, all of Metropolis' dead, all of the Resistance members' dead, all of the others' dead, is on your hands. It's on you."

Bruce's breathing stuttered, even though he couldn't hear nor see Kal. Kal could feel him trying to regain his internal equilibrium. Kal wanted him to fail.

"I'll make you care," Kal smirked, "Wouldn't that be a fitting revenge, Bruce? Making an indifferent man like you care?"

Bruce finally seemed to get into a trance. Kal clawed the wall, hurting to hurt him. Patience, he told himself. Physically hurting him wasn't enough. It was never enough.

The Kryptonian suddenly felt empty and small again. He had no idea why.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bittersweet memories... My favourite kind.


	10. Fathered

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Parents and children relationships are complicated.

"You are a coward, Father."

"Damian."

Kal grew flustered at the sound. He had gotten so used that the prisoner never talked to his son, he hadn't thought Bruce would actually call his name.

It took him a split second to recover with an angry, "Finally ready to acknowledge you were wrong, Father?"

Bruce shook his head with a bit too much vigour to be casual, "No."

Kal stared at his foe, waiting for a continuation. Damian was not known for his patience.

"Did you know...?"

Kal's lips curled up. "That your harlot was pregnant? I did know, Father. Another child you'll abandon and disown. You're not fit to be a parent. You never were." 

Kal had always looked at Bruce's parenting and found it wanting. Who had to take Dick in when Bruce fought with him? Clark. Who had to take Damian in when Bruce rejected him? Clark. 

How many times had Clark tried to convince Bruce to be more flexible, more understanding in his parenting? If Clark had children that had survived childbirth, he would be so much more open in his kindness and more flexible with them, especially when they made mistakes. He would have cherished his children and would have never let them get harmed. 

A lifetime ago, Bruce's dark eyes had glowered while he had growled, "Clark, stop passively-aggressively commenting on my parenting techniques; you only know how to be the cool Uncle. You get to play Dick's hero while I have to play the bad guy and remind him he has to do his homework before patrol." 

Now, Bruce's hand clamped on his leg, hard enough to make a mark, "Is she healthy?" Kal grinned at the concern slipping into his foe's tone.

"Your harlot? Unfortunately, she's healthy enough to stride around like a peacock."

"The child?"

Damian's voice snorted, "How should I know? I don't care what happens to your bastard."

Bruce swallowed, "The child is innocent."

Kal nodded, thinking of his own innocent child's fate, "He is born from traitors. He deserves death, same as them." His child had not deserved to die before he was even born. Kal had known he was a father for two days, eight hours, forty two minutes and thirty nine seconds before he had lost his child. He had gone from giddy excitment to complete heartbreak.

"You don't really think that, Damian."

Kal tilted his head and frowned: didn't Bruce think the Regime were unrepentant monsters willing to kill innocent children? "I do."

"No. I can hear it in your voice. You may hate Selina and me, however, the child has done nothing wrong."

"He's the child you chose to have to replace me, Father," Damian's sharp tongue accused.

"The child is not your replacement, Damian," Bruce responded, annoyed.

"Is he Grayson's replacement then?"

"He's not anyone's replacement," Bruce's angry voice countered, "Dick is dead by your fault. That can't ever be undone. He can't ever be replaced."

"It was an accident," Kal made sure to answer in a defensive tone. He knew Damian had never intended to kill his brother and Dick's death had never been Kal's favourable outcome of the takeover of Arkham Asylum.

"You are a trained assassin, Damian. You don't get to claim it was an accidental death when you threw a weapon at Dick during a real fight."

"I didn't mean to kill him," Damian's tone angrily bit back.

"You killed my son. Being sorry doesn't bring him back, Damian."

Kal watched Bruce with weary eyes. Blame was so easy to attribute to Bruce; the man had always been too hard on his closest friends and family. "Kal is a better father than you have ever been." He wanted Bruce's pain and he knew how to obtain it.

Bruce seethed, using his anger as his go-to guilt and pain shield, "I already disowned you. Be the villain you are so persistent in becoming."

Kal muted the sound. Villain. His ears tingled at the insult. He had fought all of his adult life to save people from villains and here Bruce was, throwing the insult in his face. He bristled.

Unfortunately, he didn't have time for Selina to make an appearance since it was Sunday and, barring any crisis, he visited his parents at the Fortress of Solitude for lunch. With one last furtive glance at Bruce, Kal flew to the Fortress of Solitude.

"Ma? Pa? I'm back," he called out at the entrance.

"Clark, lunch is ready," his Ma answered him in almost the same tone she had when he was a teenager. Some things never changed.

Clark sat in front of his Ma and his Pa sat beside her. "Let's say grace," Ma told them. Both Pa and Clark were astonished: that habit had long since fallen in obscurity since Lois's death. Nonetheless, they both fell silent and Ma said, "We are grateful we are all here enjoying this meal together today. God, help provide to those who have not enough."

"Amen," both Pa and Clark answered. They served themselves in silence.

"How are you doing, Clark?" Ma cautiously asked.

"Good," he responded ignoring the itch to discuss Bruce's capture with her, "You?"

Ma gave him a weak smile, "We haven't seen the sun in years, Clark."

Clark stopped moving his fork, guilt rolling deep in his stomach. He no longer had any appetite. He hated this conversation. "We've talked about this before, Ma. It's unsafe out there, now that everyone knows what you mean to me."

Pa furrowed his brows as he ate his pancakes, "You told us it is unsafe. Years have passed, son. Most people would have forgotten. We should be able to disguise ourselves as a precaution."

Clark shook his head, "Impossible. My enemies are vigilantly keeping a close eye on any of my possible weaknesses."

"Have you been attacked recently?" Ma gently prodded, trying to understand the root of her son's worries.

"I've been attacked recently," Clark admitted although his enemy in question had been Batman.

"Still, it is our decision to make, Clark. For the past five years, we've lived in isolation. We've told you numerous times we want to go outside."

Clark shook his head, "I can't help you get killed."

His father's glare burned through him, "Clark, we can't do this any longer."

Clark hit the table with one fist, denting the furniture, "I can't lose you both. That's final." His Pa slowly cleaned his mouth with a handkerchief and stomped out of the room without another word. The abrupt departure hurt as much now as it did when Clark was going through puberty.

Clark looked at his Ma, hoping she would bypass the subject. She, unfortunately, was never one to shy away from difficult topics, "Clark, you can't just lock up forever. We're not precious gems to store away for safekeeping."

"But you're both too precious to lose, Ma! I can't handle losing either or both of you."

Ma quietly shook her head, "Locking us up won't stop Death from eventually claiming us. We just want to live, Clark."

Clark rubbed his eye, "I can't lose you, Ma, even if Pa hates me."

She took his other hand in her smaller ones and squeezed, "Sweety, your father doesn't hate you."

The man glanced into his mother's sincere eyes, waiting for the comfort he had come to associate with her presence. The same ember of kindness and warmth still softly burning in her eyes as it had always done, "Parents want their kids to have a better life than they had... to be better persons than they were. Jonathan is only worried you are letting your fear control you. He dislikes seeing you like this."

Clark wanted to touch his mother's arm, to cling to her kindness and simplicity like a kid to his mother's skirt, "Are you thinking the same thing, Ma?"

She gave him a hug and whispered, "I just want the best for you, Clark. I want you to be the best version of who you are. We can't see it if you lock us up in the middle of nowhere, can we?"

Clark swallowed and they eventually separated. They quietly conversed as they finished eating the pancakes.

"Are you still in a relationship with Diana?"

"Yes."

"It's been years. Have you talked about long-term commitment?"

Clark nodded distractedly, "We don't need anything formal on that regard." His Ma gave him a shrewd look.

"She told me she didn't really understand all the fuss about marriage. That's not how Amazons do it."

"Oh. What do they do?"

Clark waved it off, "They swear oaths of strong relationships, whether it be as friends or lovers. For them, the distinction is not that important. Except for Diana, they've been alive for hundreds of years in the same immutable environment."

"I see," Ma pondered, "and if there are no males, does that mean there are no children?"

Clark's face suddenly clouded, "Yes. They don't really have the same concept of family."

Ma sipped her tea, not prodding him. She knew he had always wanted a family of his own. Clark cracked first, "She... doesn't want kids."

Ma gazed at him with kindness, "Are you sure of that?"

"Yes," Clark sadly confessed.

Ma sighed, "Are you sure it's not because she thinks you might want a child to 'replace' the one you lost with Lois?"

Clark blinked, "What?"

Ma smiled, "Is it possible you've given her the impression you wanted a child to make up for your previous loss?"

He simply looked at her with guilt and hesitation.

"People never want to feel like someone else's replacement, not even Wonder Woman."

"She's not!" Clark answered, "She's my closest ally, my most loyal follower... She's... beautiful and strong."

Ma gave a short nod, her features seeming more thoughtful than in agreement, "That she is."

Clark tilted his head and scrunched his face in puzzlement, "What are you trying to tell me?"

"Do you want to have children with her?"

For a second, Clark tried to envision a future with Diana and children. He could see her smile and say something nice to the children, yet, he couldn't imagine her changing diapers, cuddling with them during their childish terrors, chiding for their mistakes nor could he imagine her preparing them for school. She was wise and kind, but, she didn't seem to viscerally love children as Clark did. She had never wanted kids, even when she had been in other relationships...

"Do you want some more tea?" Ma slyly cut in Clark's distressing thoughts.

Clark shook the thoughts away and smiled at his mother, "Thanks, Ma, but I should head back."

She nodded, "Okay, Clark. Don't forget your father and I don't want you to live in fear; we want you to thrive, to be happy."

He nodded, "That's what I am doing, Ma, I'm helping this world thrive under a new leadership."

She shook her head. 

Kal flew back to the Watchtower, the image of his mother shaking her head in disappointment still fresh in his mind.


	11. Named

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Is Bruce retaliating?!?

"Hello, Bruce."

Kal's foe gave a sharp nod to acknowledge Selina's presence.

"Are you cold?"

"No."

Kal observed the man touching his cell's walls with minute attention.

"How does it work?"

"What."

"The cell," Selina's voice clarified.

Bruce traced the wall's natural indentation pattern, "It's Kryptonian technology."

Kal raised an eyebrow, "How does Kryptonian technology work exactly?"

Bruce sighed, "Don't you have any work to accomplish, Selina?"

"I do," Kal answered.

Bruce stopped stroking the wall and cocked his head in 'her' direction, "Where."

Kal had studied this part of the conversation subject to be more believable as Selina, "I'm an assistant for one of the solar-powered project. And, a consulting expert for security issues. I have to stay sharp, you know."

Bruce closed his sightless eyes, "Honest jobs."

Kal didn't answer him. He wasn't sure where Bruce was going with that comment. 

"You've had opportunities before," Bruce dryly noted. The "and you squandered them and left me on the lurch" was left looming over the statement. 

If they had been in the wilderness, crickets would have been heard.

"I..." Selina's voice calmly started.

Bruce punched the wall. 

He didn't flinch at the impact, but Kal could see the bruised knuckles and the hint of blood sprayed on the Kryptonian wall. Kal knew better than to push Bruce with apologies or explanations when he was in this type of self-destructive mood. 

The man pressed his forehead on the wall and, a few moments later, angerly whispered, "Leave me alone."

Clark didn't have the heart to leave him alone.  
Kal didn't have enough heart to leave him alone.

"I can't," Selina succinctly summarized. 

Bruce didn't move, "There's nothing left for you with me except pain."

"That's a lie, Bruce, and you know it. I'm not letting you keep us..."

"There is no "us"!" Bruce almost lost his composure. Almost. Then, he calmed down his heartbeat before it really became erratic.

Kal shook his head, "There is an "us", Bruce. Having a child together makes us an "us"."

Bruce made a strangled noise. 

"You can't escape "us", Bruce, even if you wanted to."

"They'll kill you, Selina, and corrupt the kid," Bruce muttered into the wall, hands clenching hard.

"They won't, Bruce. I'm useful," Selina reassured.

Bruce snorted, "And known to be fickle." 

Clark wanted to protest it wasn't true; that he had always been the loyal one in relationships. He forced his mouth closed.

Bruce abruptly changed the conversation's subject again, "The name."

"What?" a puzzled Clark asked. 

"What is the name," Bruce gritted through his teeth. Clark was jubilant as soon as he understood his former friend was referring to one of their earliest conversations. Bruce did care, to the point of displaying rash behaviour.

"Helena," Clark answered after a lengthier pause, "I know it's the name of the daughter the both of us had in another dimension, still, it rings well with Wayne, doesn't it?"

The man leaning on a cell wall didn't answer.

"Doesn't it?" 

Bruce braced himself on the wall, his eyes still closed, "They'll use them to get to me."

"Is that what you tell yourself to avoid caring about your own child?"

Bruce straightened up and paced like a restless jaguar in a cage, "Kal hasn't come to visit in a long time."

"And?" Selina's voice asked as Kal's thoughts were racing to find reasonable explanations.

"He's planning 'this'," the jailed man enunciated. 

"What do you mean? Why would he do this?" Somehow, Kal managed to keep the panic out of his voice.

The infuriating mortal man continued his walk unimpededly, "He despises me almost as much as he hates himself."

Kal's mind rejoiced that Bruce was drawing the wrong conclusion while his heart lurched at the words. Why would he hate himself?

"Bruce, that doesn't make any sense," Selina's purring voice replied with a hint of confusion. 

Bruce ignored 'her' and continued pacing. 

Clark was somewhat disappointed this seemed to be the end of the conversation. He muted the sound and slowly floated to the door when he heard Bruce say, "Jonathan." Clark blinked back, "What?" confounded about why his former best friend would say his middle name or his father's name. 

The jailed man didn't open his eyes, "He should be called Jonathan if he is a boy." 

This was too much for Clark; he flew away. He didn't even know which part of himself was more upset: his stomach, heart or mind.

At the same time as Bruce's dramatic name reveal, Clark had recognized the coded message in Bruce's footsteps, one of the ones Selina had given them. It was a location's coordinates. 

Even as enraged as he was, Kal knew it was Bruce's test for Selina and/or Bruce's trap for Kal. Bruce knew Kal was listening. Selina had told him she had told Kal all of their codes. This had to be a trap.

***

Kal gritted his teeth and slammed his fist into the majestic speculum that decorated one of the official Watchtower room in a move mirroring Bruce earlier's move that same day. Contrary to the human's frail body, Kal's body was too strong to be shattered by anything Earth-made.

"Damn him and his mind games!"

Barry's head cautiously peered into the room and he wisely dodged outside when saw an upset looking Superman standing on broken glass. 

Bruce. It was always Bruce's fault, Kal knew. 

What had given Clark away? How had Bruce known "Jonathan" was the name he had been considering if he had had a son? Clark had never told a soul, had never even hinted of it. Yet, Bruce knew. What else did Bruce know? Was he playing with Selina knowing it was Kal?

Kal grunted harder and punched the remainder mirror piece on the wall, exploding it into thousands of sharps shards. Had he been human, he would have had to treat his hands. As it was, he felt no satisfaction of human pain, only bitter hollowness. Why did he always feel so... carved out, so shattered when he was the only one nobody could destroy? 

Jonathan Kent. 

A black-haired half Kryptonian kid. Clark's kid. Kal's legacy. 

If only Kal had been the one protecting the child in his belly; at least, the child wouldn't have died with Lois. At least, Kal would have him or her in his life. 

Kal was strong. He couldn't be any other way.

Clark observed his reflections in the sea of polished metal, the medium of all the ghosts that haunted his life: shame, disappointment, hate, guilt, fear, loneliness, grief, rage and a void that bore no name. 

Self-loathing, Bruce might have added. "Shut up!"

Bruce might have shaken his head with a teacher's harshness towards a turbulent child's silly display. "Leave me alone!"

Bruce might have given a short mocking chuckle in reply: kill me then. "I will! You'll die, I swear!"

Bruce might have leaned on the wall with a raised eyebrow: do it, kill me and I'll just haunt your nights as well as your days. "I already suffer nightmares, exactly like you do each night."

Imaginary Bruce might have waded through the sea of shards and put his hand on Kal's shoulder: be honest, Kal, what do you want? "I want you dead!"

Unreal Bruce would have snorted: Wrong answer. "I want you dead!"

Bruce might have shaken his head and released him from his grip, leaving him alone and disoriented. "Wait! Where are you going?"

Bruce, imaginary or not, was no longer there, not even in any of the numerous reflections of a sobbing being kneeling on the shards of a broken heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Save-the-mirrors-fondation humbly wish to remind Our Wise Savior Superman that mirrors had nothing to do with Metropolis's ultimate destruction... 
> 
> Sincerely, 
> 
> Your most dedicated Followers


	12. Agitated

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clark gets even more upset.

Someone had cleaned the shattered glass.

Clark's mother would have chastised him for leaving someone else to clean up his messes. Kal didn't care anymore as he sat at the table thinking back to the previous day's fiasco.

He was always the one cleaning up other people's messes. As if to prove the case in point... Damian strode in the room with the same self-possessed arrogance his father had always emanated.

"Kal," he called out without preamble, his blue-grey eyes finding him from behind his Nightwing's mask, "I want to see Father."

Kal's heart stopped. 

His carefully woven lie would unravel at the slightest outside influence. He had to stop Damian from seeing his father. 

"Why would you want to see your traitor of a father? The one who rejected you at every turn?" the venomous words easily slid out of Kal's mouth.

Damian scowled at him unflinchingly, "I have to see him."

"Why? So he can give slivers of hope before dashing them again? Don't let him define who you are, Damian. You are better off without him in your life."

"I agree. However, I have to see him."

"I won't allow it," Kal's voice sliced through the space between the opposing men.

Damian's eyes narrowed, "Is he dead?" 

Kal stood up unflinching, "What happens to him is not your business."

Damian opened his mouth to retort something vicious, but he relented and closed his mouth, eyes still furrowed, "Then, whose business is it to determinate his fate?"

Mine, only mine, Kal yearned to claim.

Kal knew better than to say those words out loud. Instead, he took another page from Batman's book and used one of his excuses, "Not yours. You are too emotionally compromised in this matter." 

Damian's accusing glare didn't change Kal's position. The Demon Head's grandson grinned, "I see." 

They both knew Damian was going to try to take matters in his own hands. Kal was thankful he had put as many safeguards as he had around Bruce. 

As suddenly as Damian had walked in the room, he walked out as furiously. Finally, Kal internally sighed.

He had never really particularly liked Bruce's youngest son. He was rude, selfish and arrogant. He also treated him as an alien, one of Clark's most sensitive subject. 

At Dick's untimely death, Kal had taken Damian in and he still didn't particularly like him. However, Kal could not let Bruce's son be unprovided for; he couldn't let him return to his devious mother's side. 

With time, he had come to somehow enjoy the kid's presence. Sometimes, he could even fool himself into believing it was Bruce by his side, scowling and being rude to people. He had Bruce's eyes, yet, they didn't accuse him of anything like Bruce's now did. 

Nonetheless, today, Damian's eyes didn't have the same effect. Today, they reminded him of the child he was currently having with Bruce.

Kal knew it was a very ridiculous thought. 

Men couldn't have biological children together, yet, somewhere in the back of Kal's head, he entertained the idea he was pregnant with Bruce's child. He could protect him from the world's dangers better than any human women could. Lois. Selina. Talia...

Kal clenched his fists; his frown deepened.

His child would have followed him. And Bruce would have been forced to cooperate, to obey Kal to some degree just to have a relationship with his child. Helena Wayne, his mind supplied, or Jonathan Kent. 

Thus, the implacable Batman would have been completely tamed by his enemy.

***  
The same day, later.

 

Swirling blue and grandiose. Earth.

Each time Clark contemplated the planet, he remembered what he had gained and lost in that place. Sometimes, it calmed him; sometimes, it agitated him. At present, it only reminded him of a very specific someone with blue eyes. Clark hated that, especially since he had come here specifically to relax.

"Clark, do you have a moment?" his friend's voice called from behind.

"Lex," he answered more dismissingly, not especially looking forward to dealing with him, not that he was currently looking forward to dealing with anyone. Especially not after the Damian debacle.

Lex came to stand beside him and looked at the same thing as him, "It's always breathtaking, isn't it?"

"Yes," Clark answered truthfully enough. 

"Still, for someone god-like like you, it must seem so... fragile."

Clark swallowed, already dreading the subject of frailties and loss.

Lex's hands were held behind his back as he confidently stated, "It needs to be protected."

"It does," Clark's strangled voice agreed, still hating how his thoughts turned around one infuriating human that wasn't even in the room, that had too much influence over him.

"Especially from its biggest threat."

Kal forced himself to stop thinking about Bruce and growled at his ally, "The Resistance is vanquished. They have fallen."

Lex shook his head, "They are still like cancer propagating over Earth. We need information."

"What are you proposing?"

Lex gave him a once-over before asking, "Did he talk?"

Suddenly, Kal felt chills running down his back. Why did everything always come back to Bruce? 

"Who?"

Lex smirked, "I meant the vigilante, of course, the leader of the Resistance. If you can't make him talk, I might have... solutions to help him talk."

The very next second, Lex's back was pressed on the perpendicular wall and Kal's hand was lifting him above the ground. Kal's eyes shined with the eerily demonic light, barely holding back its hellfire. His voice was more than murderous when it screamed, "Don't ever talk about him like that ever again! He's mine!" 

Lex's green eyes (Why did he also have green eyes?) widened considerably at the display and he struggled to breathe.

It took a moment for Kal to process what he had just declared in front of his friend. 

He released Lex from his death grip and he apathetically noted the mortal man struggled for breath. He also observed Lex's face growing blank after his eyes had fleetingly lightened with a sudden realization. 

Lex finally stood unsteadily on his legs while still rubbing his throat and his eyes pierced the unapologizing Superman with clear resentment, "You are not even trying to get him to speak."

Kal breathed out. His dangerous slip of the tongue was left unchallenged. 

"No," Kal simply answered, both arms crossed on his chest.

"Why?" 

"I will kill him," Kal vowed, burning embers in his eyes and tone. 

Lex straightened his back and briefly paused before carefully saying, "That's not a practical use of our resources."

"I'm the leader. I make the final decisions," Kal calmly declared, daring Lex with his eyes to challenge him. 

For a brief moment, a complex feeling flashed in Lex's face before he lowered his head in agreement, "You are the leader. Your word is law in this world."

"It is," Kal affirmed confidently.

Lex nodded obediently. 

With one last glance in his friend's direction, Kal floated out of the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For all of you who don't know, in the Injustice World, Lex is secretly on Bruce (Resistance)'s side, while he is pretending to be working with Clark's Regime. He was also never a villain in this world.
> 
> I hope this information helps you view his conversation with Clark in a whole other light.


	13. Loved

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Being loved is not always enough.

Bruce was sleeping soundlessly on the bench in his narrow cell.

It was rare for Clark to see him actually sleeping, not meditating to settle down, nor wrecked by nightmares. It was hard not to drink in the beautiful and serene picture. 

The black hair that had grown longer in captivity covered his pale forehead with the bluish complexion (due to the crystal lights). With his sightless eyes closed and his scars covered up, Bruce looked peaceful and normal. 

Clark could imagine him as an overworked father and husband recharging after a strenuous week; a businessman having finally finished his long-awaited deal, and; a man content of his life decisions and goals. 

Clark slowly extended a hand in his direction in the mindless act of touching the elusive man until he felt the hard texture blocking his movement. 

He blinked incomprehensively at the translucid wall until he remembered he had been the one to construct this wall keeping them apart, thus ensuring Clark would not impulsively destroy the man before he had obtained the answer he was seeking. 

The answer...

Clark swallowed as thoughts waged wars with one another in his head. Why had he been so unwilling to share this man with his son? With the child Clark had helped raise? Why had he felt anger and resentment surging in his body at Lex's mention of Bruce? 

He could feel himself panic at the implications, at the possibilities... 

Kal hit the wall, wanting to dislodge the answers he feared, hoping to drown out the conclusions his reporter mind was slowly drawing. 

"Bruce," he whined. 

The man woke up slowly from his calmness and Kal let himself relax into the prison-like character he now despised and loved playing before unmuting the sound. 

"Bruce?" 

The man cocked his head in his direction, his eyes still closed, as if no longer pretending he wasn't throughoutly blind.

"Selina," his raspy voice noted, "What is wrong."

"Nothing's wrong." Clark had thought he had perfectly mimicked Selina's nonchalance. Apparently, he had been wrong about that too.

Bruce shook his head, "You sound upset. Are you ill?"

To anyone but his closest friends, Bruce's polite and impersonal question seemed detached, cold and uninterested. 

As one of the privileged ones who intimately knew the man behind the masks, Clark could hear the warmth of kindness and worry undercurrent. No Kryptonite knives could have bled him more efficiently. 

Clark swallowed, hating himself for putting himself in the situation, "I...feel sick." It was true; his stomach lurched at the acidity of guilt and self-loathing.

A moment passed before Bruce asked, "Morning sickness?"

He shook his head, "I don't think so."

Bruce nodded pensively, obviously pondering Selina's health, "Get it checked. Better safe than sorry."

It hit Clark then and there that his friend was worried about a dead woman's good health. That this, too, was his fault.

Clark bit his lips to keep his thoughtless words in. Some of them, unfortunately, flew past his defences.

"I love you," Clark blurted out. 

He and Bruce both stiffened so much they could have passed as Roman statues. 

What had he just done?!? Why had he said that?!? 

"You don't love me. You can't love me," Bruce's ruffled voice cut in. 

Clark wanted to die from embarrassment. Was that another stab at the fact he was an alien? Or was it because he was a man? 

He felt his cheeks painted in shame, guilt and anger. Instead of letting himself answer, he let his character do it instead.

"Why can't I, Bruce?" Selina's voice purred, "You can't handle my confession?"

"You are using me as you've always used me," the man's hard tone asserted in, anger slipping in. Right, Bruce didn't know it was Kal confessing...

"Why would you try to convince you of that lie, Bruce?" 

The human turned to face the other blank wall, clearly dismissing his interlocutor.

Unbidden, the answer came to Clark's mind; Bruce thought Selina just condemned herself to certain death. He was trying to lessen the damages. 

Clark wanted to hold him against his chest so hard it would be impossible to separate them even in death. 

He clutched one hand on his chest. He didn't understand why it hurt so much to yearn something so stupid, so impossible... 

Under the weight of his confusion, Clark panicked and ran away.

The next time he snapped of his zoning out, it was to the knocking noise on his door-of course, he had hidden back in his chambers. He didn't trust his voice to be steady enough to answer. 

"Kal?" Diana's worried voice echoed through Clark's tilted world.

Clark dumbly blinked at the door. He didn't want to talk to her now. She had always been keen on finding out the truth. As was Batman...

"Kal?" 

He wished she would abandon him as everyone else had. He also wished she'd stay by his side.

She'd once told him she was not following ideology but him and that she'd always follow him wherever path he chooses. She had told him most of the League believed in Clark's leadership. It had hurt Clark more than he had let on; knowing people followed him because he was a more charismatic leader than Batman, not because he was right. Clark had always been aware Bruce was the tactical genius that had very poor social skills. Looking back, it pained Clark that the most rational members of the Justice League had followed Batman, not Superman: Green Arrow, Black Canary, Mr. Terrific and J'onn J'onzz had followed Batman. Superman, on the other hand, had gathered followers because he was Superman, not because he was in the right. His followers had treated the question as if it was a popularity contest, not an ideologic one...

"Kal, I'm coming in," Diana continued. Clark was convinced she'd follow him to hell if that was where he had decided to go. 

She opened the door, closed it behind her and looked at him even more worried than she had previously sounded. 

She took his hand in hers and asked, "Are you okay?"

Clark gazed into her azure eyes and he could almost see someone else's. He couldn't talk so he hesitatingly kissed her on the lips with his eyes closed, fearing that he was going too far and breaking too many taboos at once. The recipient of the kiss deepened it in a shared desire. 

Clark could feel his body's nervousness only heighten at the touch. 

"More," he moaned after they had resurfaced to breath. 

The hands glided over him and slowly and lovingly removed his clothes. 

He needed to keep him here, to make him his. He was greedier than either Talia and Selina: he'd force him to stay. He'd have his child and they would be forever together in a way no chains could be broken. For that, he needed to trap him in his folds...

The hands finished removing the clothes and Clark could feel her desire rise at her nakedness. She needed him urgently. 

Clark tried to distance the weirdness of the clothes she was now removing from him; they didn't make sense and she didn't try to make them make any. 

They were both naked and gazing at one another. The eyes were off and so was the body, but Clark only wanted to use the opportunity to chain him to her forever. 

She pulled him over her and they grounded their genitals together: a hard cock getting the friction on the clitoris. The noises she made were some she had never heard before. It wasn't anything like the sweetness and care as with Lois nor the roughness as with Diana. She'd always thought passion was either the earth-shattering collision or the tenderness of caring; she'd never thought it could be both at once. 

He was hesitant and willing, strong but soft in the way his hands wandered over her body. She arched her body in his hands-the hands were wrong too- and she wanted more, much more than that. 

She parted her legs and used her arms to pull him in a needy kiss. Please, let it never end, she wanted to whisper. Please, let me bear your child and raise him with you, she ardently wished as the friction was almost too much on her. Then, the cock was in the vagina and she could feel her wish being granted. 

Mine, she wanted to scream, he's mine. She'd hold him and wouldn't ever let him go. He'd wanted a family and she would give him one. He'd only need to keep by her side forever. Clark clawed into her partner's back, wanting to leave marks over the ones Selina and Talia had left.

She felt the tremors of her partner's orgasm. 

"I love you," she declared and she too was coming. The shivers lasted longer than any orgasm. She pressed into him, breasts on his chest, sweaty and raw. 

This must be what bliss felt like, she decided. She positioned him so he was spooning her, his arm-wrong again- was around her. She sighed, content. She was his family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if this chapter confused you. It's supposed to mirror Clark's confusion about his feelings.


	14. Depressed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Being Clark/Kal is hard...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, it does sometimes happen; I'm posting two chapters in a row.

"Ready or not, here I come!" the little girl yells as she starts walking around. Clark sits beside his wife hiding behind the pile of wood. She glares at him for following her to her hiding spot. Their little girl, as stubborn as his wife, spends time looking through Clark's parents' barn, before yelling, "Dad, you better not have flown again, or I'll never play with you again."

Clark sighs at the sight and looks at his wife, "See? She has your adorable bossy attitude."

Lois snickers at the words, "Isn't that because she realized you never play fair?"

"Is that so?" Clark whispers back as he playfully brought his mouth towards hers. He could feel her breathing hard against his chest even if they still do not touch. Lois and he look into each other's eyes for what feels like an eternity, his tenderness mirroring hers.

"FOUND YOU!" The black-haired child screams just as they were about to kiss.

"You sure did," Lois smiles back, playfully pushing her husband away with the flick of a wrist.

Clark opens his arms menacingly in his child's direction, "But, I'll be the one catching you, baby bear."

"Dad! Only babies get hugged all the time!" she runs away.

Clark chuckles, "You'll forever be my baby bear, ______," he proclaims as he catches her and imprisons her against his chest, breathing in her sweet child aroma.

"Dad, stop! That's embarrassing!"

Lois laughs, "Good luck with that. Ever since I've known him, I have tried to get him to stop being so cheesy."

"That's what you like about me," Clark cheekily answers.

"Please," Lois snorts with a raised eyebrow, "I married you to be able to eat your mother's food. You just came with the package."

Clark releases his daughter from his death grip and she pretends not to have enjoyed the hug. He steps closer to his wife, "I believe this calls for a challenge, Miss Kent."

Lois flashes her bring-it-on smile, "First one who can get their work on the front page?"

"Mom! I want Grandma's cookies!"

"Sweety, you have to have space for supper, but, we'll see after, ok?"

______ turns her puppy eyes to her father, whom she knows is the weak link, "Dad? Pretty please?"

Lois throws him a don't-you-dare glance. He lowers himself to his daughter's eye level, "Not now, baby bear. But do you want to do the airplane?"

She thinks for a second before nodding, "Okay. We'll go back to Metropolis in it."

Clark's stomach churns in dread at the name of the city, "You can't go to Metropolis, ______. It's gone."

As soon as he realizes Metropolis does not exist, both Lois and ______ simmer in the Smallville's sun as mirages in a desert, before they disappear in a puff of smoke. Clark falls back in his childhood backyard, "No. No. NO!. NOOOOO!"

"Kal, please wake up," an insistent hand shook him.

"NOOO!"

"Kal?"

He opened his eyes to see Diana's worried eyes on him, "Are you okay, Kal?" He swallowed hard and took a moment to take in his surrounding. The muted bedchambers he was in was his Watchtower one. His only one nowadays. He was trapped here as a symbol, as the victorious leader. 

Victorious. He looked down at another sheet he had shredded apart.

He sensed Diana's hand gently placed on his shoulder, "Kal. Another nightmare?"

He shook his head, ashamed of always looking weak in front of her, "It was a good dream, Di. Like the one the plant Mogul once sent me."

On his birthday, a lifetime ago, a monster had sent him a flower who could show someone their perfect world. In his, Kal had lived on a still intact Krypton with his family. He had been happy. Truly happy.

Then, Bruce had removed the problematic plant in real life and Kal had seen all of his imagined happiness hadn't happened at all. The contrast of the two images had been devastating.

A strangled noise escaped his throat.

Diana gently caressed his back, "It's okay. I'm here for you."

He could feel she wanted to say more so he asked, "You want to say something more. What is it?"

She hesitated a moment before answering, "While the Resistance thrived, I understood your reluctance to see a therapist, Kal, however, now that Bruce is captured, maybe it would be time to revisit your decision."

He removed himself from her touch with a sharp movement, "Diana, I can't. They see me as a God!"

Diana knew better than to caress him now that he was furious and anyway her expression darkened as her patience had waned away, "We are gods! It doesn't mean emotions can't fester in our wounds! I thought capturing Bruce would improve your mood. Instead, in the last weeks, you have increasingly been missing for meetings and when you attend you have a blank look on your face. You feel more and more distant. Yesterday, you made love to me as if I was someone else. You have nightmares almost every night. You refuse all the help I offer... It's hard not to think you are getting comfort from someone else. What do you want me to do?" The question was filled with weariness.

"Nothing," he retorted as sharply as he could manage. She furrowed her brows at his reply. Diana stood up and dressed herself up. Even though the motions were brusque, Diana was ever the graceful Goddess in her actions and, as upset as Kal was, he could appreciate the sight of her body in fluid motions. She was perfect in ways Kal could never achieve.

When she had finished dressing, the Goddess glared at him, "I've always taken your side, Kal. I told you I'd be what you needed me to be. I don't know what you need from me anymore. Or even if you need me anymore." 

He stared back at her; he didn't want to need anyone. He didn't want to feel his heart yearning or his anger raging. 

Upon seeing Clark's stony expression, Diana relented into soft disappointment, "Maybe we should give each other more space for a while, Kal."

Kal simply nodded, his heart already broken by the ephemeral quality of bygone dreams. 

For one split second, Diana, even though she was the one proposing the break, seemed crestfallen. The look slipped away as soon as it had appeared. With the regal bearing she had always innately seemed to possess, Diana turned on her heels and slammed the door behind her.

Clark didn't want to track the actions of his now former lover. He rolled over to catch more sun rays. He should have felt powered up. Instead, he still didn't want to get out of bed; it was as if he was made of marshmallows hazardously glued to each other. The world outside his room would soon be clamouring for their leader. The noises he couldn't filter out, like Bruce's heartbeat, would soon overwhelm him.

If salted water doused his sheets or if his eyelids closed again in pain, it was nobody's business but his own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has been in my drafts since October 2nd. I'm happy to finally be able to post it...


	15. Revealed

Kal diddled in his room in a rare show of nervousness.

He had attended the meeting that morning with an appropriate but distant Diana. Everyone else had noticed their change of status, yet no one had commented on it.

What was wrong with him? He'd break up with her but, that change wasn't the one weighing on his conscience.

Instead, his mind kept coming back to the image of a caged Bruce.

Kal had foolishly blurted he loved him, had idiotically wanted to have his child... Kal had wanted to make him his. Forever.

Then, he had dreamt of losing Lois and his child. He had recalled the pain of losing the glorious happiness that life made worth living. And he had seen that the illusion he had been building as Selina when it inevitably failed, would devastate his former best friend, would crush him like Kal had been crushed by the dissolution of his own dreams.

Still, Kal couldn't keep the situation up either. Eventually, it would fall upon them like ashes during a volcano's eruption, asphyxiating Bruce by corrupting the very thing that gave him life.

Clark pressed on hand on the wall to steady himself. He'd have to tell the truth and it burned his insides, his throat and his mouth. Many people had called him brave, however, they didn't understand how much easier it was fighting a literal monster than a figurative one.

After a long time, Clark glanced at his room and saw his own weak reflection in the Watchtower's window. The Kryptonian swallowed and made his way to his personal punishment, his just fallout for playing with fire.

Despite his usual preference for flying, Clark walked all the way to Bruce's holding cell. Each step he walked felt like one closer to perdition.

As he walked into the room, his eyes immediately went to the man's figure.

Watching Bruce-calmly executing his routine set of the exercises- while being aware of his feelings was unbearable. Kal's anger and vindictiveness against his foe were so tightly weaved into the greater tapestry of his relationship with Bruce that, even now, as he yearned his forgiveness, he wanted to tear him apart. He was... so much Bruce, it hurt.

Clark unmuted the sound and hesitated.

"Bruce," he finally called out.

The man didn't make any movement to acknowledge his presence, however, there was an immediate change in the mood.

"I know you don't want to hear from me, but I had something important to tell you."

There was no answer. Kal's chest was thrumming with hurt, guilt, nervousness and anger.

"I'm sorry, Bruce." That got the man's attention.

He swivelled in his direction, a slight frown marring his forehead. They both knew that the last time Kal had apologized for something was after Dick's death.

"Selina is dead."

If Kal had been waiting for a dramatic breakdown of condemnations, insults and cries, he would have been wholly disappointed. Like always, Bruce was closed off, even in his emotional responses. There was the crisping of muscles, the swallowing of excessive saliva and the minute wince, but that was it.

After some hesitation, Bruce asked, "When."

A normal person would have denied it, asked how or why. Bruce had to have picked up on something wrong with his interactions with Selina because he knew the most important fact to get the full picture concerned the timing.

"The day you were captured."

Bruce clenched hard his shaking fists and gritted, "She never was with a child."

"No," Superman confirmed.

The silence that met his naked honesty felt like the man's final minutes before his sentence was to be proclaimed.

The tremors wracking Bruce's fragile human body intensified until the anger masked the depth of his sorrow: "You probably had a good laugh at my reactions with the rest of the Justice League..."

Superman flinched, "I..."

"Batman, who can't let himself love anyone... Why don't we give him another chance at miserably failing at family role-playing? Is that what this is about?"

"No..."

"Is this because you wanted to know how it felt to be the Joker, relishing in stomping on any seeds of happiness?" That hit was a bit too close to Clark's self-accusations.

"Bruce..."

"Even after you killed Green Arrow, J'onn and Black Canary, I still thought there was hope for you! You had ALFRED KILLED and I still could resist wishing for your death! Now... Now, killing people I love is not enough for you; you have to torture me with it? Hell would be too kind for you," Bruce seethed away, each one of his accusations finding perfect dual targets in Clark's love and self-loathing guilt.

"I..." Superman tried to explain something, anything, on how it had gotten to this point.

"I would tell you to leave us, "pitiful" humans, alone and to go play God elsewhere, but even Apokolips doesn't deserve the aberration that is your very existence."

"Bruce, please..." Clark whimpered, his dignity all but gone in the ever-growing gulf of guilt and pain.

"You've never had less humanity than you now have. I'm sure both sets of parents regret giving birth and raising such a horrible and ugly person."

Bruce was unrelenting in his attacks on the personal front. Clark knew he deserved every one of them. Knowing he deserved all of them didn't mean it hurt any less... To the contrary...

For a moment, the human stopped talking, his anger, anguish and grief retreating from his face like a receding tide. Clark knew this had been shocked anger and grief speaking and that, maybe (in a barely there possibility), Bruce would at least cease the flow of hurtful words long enough to hear him out.

Bruce opened his eyes and turned his very vindicative fervour in his direction while he very deliberately whispered, "You're, truly, a monster nobody could ever love, Clark. Your wife is blessed to be dead."

Kal had heard icebergs naturally crack in the truly sublime breathtaking spectacle it was. It made a loud, groaning noise that seemed to originate from the very centre of Earth's core and echoed on the water's surface with reverberations that might have emanated from the blue sky (if you didn't know any better) shielding them from the void that was space. In an iceberg, the splendour of the snapping noise was awe-inspiring.

Clark had thought he had no more heart left to get broken.

Bruce had, once again, proven him how wrong he had been.


	16. Bloodied

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You're, truly, a monster nobody could ever love, Clark. Your wife is blessed to be dead."

Drip. Drip. Drip.

Kal focused on the lone, hypnotic, irregular and fascinating sound.

Sometimes, his concentration drifted. 

"Diana, what is up with him?" he could hear Hal's voice whispering in another room several levels above. 

"I'm not his keeper," she responded more curtly than normal.

"You're certainly the closest to it," Hal countered.

She sighed, "What's the problem?"

"He pushed Barry to race against him until Barry fell from exhaustion. And that's just one thing in a line of strange behaviour."

There was a pause. Kal's attention was drawn elsewhere on the Watchtower.

There were heavy pantings mixed with raw "I love yous" in Hawkman's room. Even from Kal's room, he could almost smell the tangibility of their relationship's strength.

Kal focused on a sound close to him, trying to forget the wings beating in unison.

Drip. Drip. 

"...nothing new, although..." Cyborg's voice resounded from the technology room.

"Although?" Lex prompted. 

Cyborg seemed to hesitate, "There are irregularities, shifts in our dimension's barrier. It might be nothing."

"I see," Lex answered thoughtfully, "Keep me updated. We wouldn't want to be taken by surprise by another world's threat, especially after the last interdimensional ones. If there is a breach, we have to close it as soon as possible."

Interdimensional travel? Maybe that would relieve him of his boredom. Maybe, there was...

No. 

Focus.

Drip. Drip. 

"I don't know Barry," Captain Marvel said, "I heard he murdered hundreds of Jokers wannabes. How far will he go? How far is too much?"

Superman shook his head and zoomed in on the dripping sound, trying not to think of his failure to catch the Insurgency. Instead, he had eliminated those ridiculous Joker's fans with his heat vision. That had been so anticlimactic Kal had itched to fight off real villains, someone, anyone who could force his focus unto them. 

That's when he had had a brilliant idea...

Drip. Drip. Drip.

Damian walked in the room, as arrogant as ever, "Superman," and reminding him of all the things he hadn't wanted to think about. For a long moment, irritation welled in Kal's stomach until it quelled with a simple thought: let's play a game.

From his seat, Kal smiled back, suddenly in a good cat-like mood, "Damian, you wanted to see me?" 

Damian cautiously studied him a moment before bringing his eyes (grey-blue ones like...) back to look him in the eyes, "Not necessarily." 

Kal tried to get his growing excitement under wraps as he sat, letting Damian have the height advantage over him, "Then, what are you here for?"

Damian scowled at him, "I want to see him."

Ever since Kal had somehow acknowledged his feelings for his foe, he had better understood his raging possessive streak, his need to keep Batman in his precious little cage... Now, he liked the fiery burn it gave his body and mind. Bloodied lust and warped desire all burrowed in a soft need to protect, to own and to possess. Batman was the ugly monster's meal and no one else's, not even the subject of Batman's son's directed hatred.

"Look at me." 

Damian gave him another uninterested once-over. No fear was reflected in his eyes. Kal savoured the strange sensation of anticipation before the outcome of his private game, which he had complete control over, could be decided.

"Do you know whose blood this is?" Kal lightly asked, gesturing to the blood all over his body but especially his hands, from which puddles were forming with the drizzling of the blood. 

Damian shook his head, clearly bored by the subject. 

"Do you care whose blood it is?" Kal pressed, vaguely entertained. 

Damian shrugged, "No." He had not grasped the situational irony slipping through Kal's fingers.

His upbringing had really been fantastic, Kal thought as he listened to Batman's son's steady heartbeat. The physical resemblance was truly breathtaking... 

*Monster.* 

Kal had liked to play family with Batman; the jagged edge of the man had all but rebelled against him even though he was essentially powerless. Damian acted as the same sick parody of a son, somewhere where Kal's darkest urges mixed with his fatherly urges, in a canvas expressionists would have been exhilarated with the vivid rawness of the colours. 

Damian seemed impatient as he crossed his arms, "May I see Father?" It was somewhat said more politely than during their last conversation although his tone still belied his defiance.

"He's dead," Kal lied without any compulsion to make it sound believable. 

Damian frowned at him, the game all but played. Batman's son had no cards to play and they both knew it. 

Damian gritted out, "I have been tasked to remind you the meeting is at 6:00." With that, he once again stormed out of the room while Kal was classifying which part of him came from which parent.

Damian should be thankful he didn't take much of his mother's appearance... He didn't know how close he had come to death today.

Kal looked at his still-freshly bloodied hands and he had to find his next challenge soon or he'd go mad. 

Batman's trap. It had been gnawing at the back of his head. He had to solve it, to decipher the meaning behind the location he had provided 'Selina Kyle' with. 

It was certainly a trap. It was foolish to rush in, Superman reasoned. 

Nonetheless, Kal was a God and God feared no mere mortals' ploy. 

He'd beaten Flash at his own game. He could beat Batman in his overrated perceived cleverness. However, he still needed to be careful. 

He took a shower to wash away all the red liquid from his clothes and body, feeling distant from his own body. He dried himself off and headed in Diana's direction. When he found her studying drafted proposals, she looked tired and forsaken. 

"Diana."

"Kal," she politely, if not coldly, replied. 

"I'll be gone for a bit and I want you to keep an eye on... Batman."

She eyed him curiously, "Isn't your cell all that is necessary to lock him securely in?"

Kal nodded, "But, I don't believe in only one line of defence, especially with him involved. I want someone able to question him if necessary. I'll change the security measures to ensure you can give the cell some commands."

Wonder Woman hadn't reacted, so Kal insisted, "Would you do that for me?"

"Where are you going?" 

She was too perceptive, sometimes. "Nowhere important."

"Does it have anything to do with the blood on your costume earlier today?"

"No," Kal lied, denying it both filled the same need.

She sighed, making her appear much older than she should rightly look, "We might no longer be together, Kal, however, I still worry about you."

"You have no reason to worry, Diana. As you've often reminded me: I'm a God among humans. Today, I singlehandledly eliminated the League of Assassins." He hadn't even tortured Talia and Ra's; he had just ripped them apart no one could ever use the Lazarus Pits on them ever again.

Diana looked frazzled and Kal decided to pursue his initial request before she had time to digest the information, "Will you keep an eye on him? Don't interact with him if possible, loneliness is his sentence."

She nodded, "Be careful, Kal."

"I'm not fragile," Kal snapped. Her pitying gaze told him otherwise. Kal tried not to feel betrayed as he flew away.

Kal had one last task to do before flying straight towards his foe's trap, to defeat him yet again.

Maybe, then, it wouldn't be so difficult not to think of him...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think someone has to fill the niche market of a dictator's needs. I'm sure, somewhere, in some dimension, someone has the following advertisement: 
> 
> "You're a dictator and you're bored? Don't worry! Here at Toys-R-Dict, we offer you whatever you need! Want to kill unfunny clowns? We have some in stock! Want to murder your ex's family but they are too far away and have someone's immunity? We'll catch them for you! Want some 'official' foes in your life? We'll help set up some 'insurgency' and we'll help you track them down! Want some torture weapons? We've got the best selection in this dimension! We are Apokolips's torture tools' official provider! Come shop at Toys-R-Dict; your satisfaction is our privilege!"


	17. Trapped

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce's ploy was really a trap. What a surprise (dripping sarcasm).

Superman hadn't just blindly flown in without a second thought.

Instead, he had cautiously examined Batman's place, overseeing the dank cavern (why a cavern? To go with the bat's motif? It was too much, Superman thought). He had used his heat vision to slice through the rock to peek inside after using his x-ray vision. All in all, Superman was disappointed to see there was nothing special about the setting; murky water eroded the bottom with stalactites and stalagmites crowding the useable space. He had slowly flown in through the crack he had created in the cavern. From the outside, he had seen one part of the cavern was lead-lined and he knew this was his best way to get to the bottom of the mystery that was Batman's trap. Piercing it from above hadn't helped much his appraisal of the situation. Therefore, he had flown outside to get a better look at it before going in.

The smelly cavern reminded him of a family crypt he had often visited...

*Your wife is blessed to be dead.*

Superman clenched his fists and yelled, "You don't even know what being dead means!"

Doomsday. Pain disappearing. Light. Foolishlingly thinking you were regenerating. The floating sensation of letting go... Of hearing Lois's heartbroken cry and not caring anymore. Of not having to save anyone... and being thankful for it.

Kal hit the nearest cavern's wall and he could feel it crumble under his touch.

*For dust you are, and to dust, you shall return.*

When Clark had first heard the biblical quote, he had cried uncontrollably until his Pa had gently touched his hair-his way of asking what was wrong. Clark had sniffed and answered: "Pa, I don't want to become dust."

Pa had settled before him and had seriously listened to his adoptive son's babbling. At one point, Pa had simply answered, "Take it another way, son, dust gets to travel around the world, settling here and there to see the marvels of the world, without having to bear the burden of our existence."

"But, I'll always want to live!"

Pa had messed up his hair, "It's okay if you don't understand now, Clark, but there is beauty in mortality. There are good reasons why humans don't live forever."

But Kryptonians are near immortals, Superman mused as he slowly flew in the main chamber of the cavern. There was a second chamber covered in lead and a third one on the side. Superman decided to go through the second first and face any trap left here by Batman.

He penetrated the room and he heard the machinery of some old weapon starting up. He could have reduced the robot to nothing before it had even fired, yet, that's not what he did: he simply dodged the first three fires and he hit the robot with a satisfying crunch. He looked around for another threat and was mildly disappointed there wasn't more to it. With his bare hands, he ripped apart the remains of the robot and strode in the room, feeling superior. He kept a big chunk of it as a reminder that without Kryptonite, Batman's wasn't much of a threat.

*Monster.*

Kal frowned and mentally amended his thought: without Kryptonite and words, Batman wasn't much of a threat. "Shouldn't you remove his tongue, then?", a small voice at the back of his head said, "Or kill him? That would rid us of the problem at its source."

Kal didn't want to. He wanted to keep him. He had plans.

Clark wanted to hold him. Kal wanted to hold him down.

Clark wanted to touch him. Kal wanted to handle him.

Clark wanted to love him despite the hurt. Kal wanted to hate him despite the pain.

Paradoxal thoughts, yet, in Superman's mind, it all made perfect sense.

Impatient as this distraction wasn't working quite as he would have liked, Superman sighed and decided he'd go back to dealing with Batman after he had outmatched him in this ridiculously planned ploy. This was supposed to be clever?

Annoyed, Superman flew into the last chamber. The door mechanically dropped behind him. The Kryptonian smirked at the useless mechanism... until he sensed himself crash on the humid ground.

It had been a well-crafted trap, Superman thought as he looked up at the red lamps, disguised as small crevices on the ceiling, affecting his powers.

He had known it would be a trap since the first time Bruce subtly gave this location away to a traitorous Selina.

Of course, it was a trap. He knew it, still, he walked right into it anyway. Even Egyptians' royal tombs had one false room to deter burglars from finding the real one.

During some wasted minutes, Kal yelled indignities and curses at the walls, his fists slowly becoming thick with his own self-inflicted open wounds.

If hate could marinate a person over a long period of time, it could also start as a flash of the pan and engulf them in an instant. Kal's own hate was the unequal mixture of both phenomenon; the tree was firmly rooted and watered over years and had also grown overnight.

Kal finally stopped his frustrated pacing long enough to gather his wits. He couldn't let his prisoner win. His mind searched ideas on how to block the red lights.

It was much too high for him to climb and even if he did, how would he pry it away from the ceiling? He didn't have any tools and he had the near certainty his foe had adequately prepared them against his current strength.

He sighed. This wasn't a place to showcase his physical might.

Think. How do you obscure rays?

Lead was the ideal candidate material, he recalled, which partly explained his own weakness to it.

Clark found the debris of the robot he had kept from the first chamber and he hid, as well as he could, under the shielding, hoping his strength would come back before anyone would venture to check the trap's indubitably springing.

For hours on end, he went through, in his mind, all the revenge he could take on Bruce and reached the logical conclusion: it was time to part with him. Bruce was too much of a mental and emotional strain on Clark's meagre resources.

Clark closed his eyes, tired of his ordeal and what his decision entailed. He had to either move him away (and risk his eventual escape) or kill him.

He had plans.

Clark swallowed, mind dizzy and mouth full of grainy earth. He pushed against the wall and, this time, the wall started to cave in around his fist. It was time to go.

Clark, still protected with his makeshift shield, walked to the entrance door and tore it apart. He made his way to the entrance. Sunlight inundated his vision. It was still daytime, then.

After a few moments in the sun, Clark flew towards the Watchtower, his mind all but made up. Bruce had to die.

Clark would not let him be anyone else's ever again. Whatever sentimental feelings he had left, he had to rip them apart and burn them with Bruce's death. It was better than letting him rot alone in his mini Fortress of Solitude. It would be mercy for the both of them...

Bruce loved travelling, Clark rationalized. He'd be happy, for the first time of his life, floating around without guilt or responsibility to anchor him to this living hell. And Clark could let go of his animosities... They could coexist in the same world again.

Clark floated into the Watchtower, his resoluteness solidifying as he made his way to the cell, ignoring any stares he was subjected to.

Clark waited a moment in front of the room, a speech already on the tip of his tongue before he would order the room to poison Bruce in a painless way. Clark would watch him go to sleep one last time and would cradle him against him, reassuring him he was, at long last, safe. That Clark would keep the world safe for him too. That, he, Kal had finally won their last game. And Clark would have been the last person Bruce had heard, seen, touched and spoken to.

With one sharp exhaled, Clark stomped in and stopped, thundershock, at the glimpse his super vision offered him of the inside of his prisoner's cell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Even though Superman is crazy, he is still intelligent.


	18. Mauled

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is going to bruise...

Diana held Bruce in a choking grip with her golden lasso.

One of the human's hands was desperately vying to free his throat from the lasso while his face was already purple and the man was gasping for every bit of breath possible. The other hand was wavering near Diana's face, trying to distract the Amazon from the killing grip on her lasso.

Diana's savage voice (one Kal hadn't heard before that moment) rasped: "Where is he? If you refuse again to tell me, I really will kill you this time." The man defiantly gave a very small shake of his head.

Kal perceived the resoluteness forming on Diana's Goddess's face and crystallizing into a ruthless mask.

"So be it, I will put an end to your poisonous whispers and spare Kal of this madness if he should escape your trap."

Clark sensed himself regaining enough of his faculties to fly to the cell's control panel to open the cell's door. Hurriedly, he flew in as Bruce's gasps for breath became alarmingly desperate.

Diana turned her head in Kal's direction and surprise and relief were clearly etched on it, until, a split second later, Kal punched her into the cell's wall. Whether from the surprise or of Kal's aggression, the lasso fell from Diana's hands.

Clark's fingers shakily entangled the lasso around Bruce's throat, accidentally grazing the man's strangling marks on his neck. Superman saw the man's minute wincing, but he had more urgent preoccupations at the moment, namely making sure Bruce would continue breathing. He bent over his former best friend, forcefully opened his mouth and breathed into his windpipe with just enough force to ensure oxygen get to Bruce's lungs. For a moment, Superman's heart stilled, he stopped breathing and his mouth dried up. The next moment, Bruce took a hard inhalation and exhalation and Clark restarted breathing.

It was in that compromising position Diana's comment found him, "You're alive, Kal? But..."

Superman moved back to let Batman concentrate on his breathing pattern and to take care of his former lover.

"What were you thinking!?!" Clark all but screamed at a blinking Diana.

Bruce's gasping sound resonated against the cell's walls.

Getting punched into a wall certainly hadn't improved Diana's disposition to be yelled at. She wiped the blood dripping from her mouth, steadied on her feet, glared at the Kryptonian and spat: "I was trying to save you. I knew he was the one who had convinced you to go and, seeing as you were late coming back, I knew it was his doing."

"Why were you trying to kill him? I asked you to keep an eye on him not murder him!" Clark gestured to the human still leaning on the cell's wall and his chest heaving with evident effort. The panic in Clark's chest progressively transitioned into growling anger.

Diana glanced at Bruce and her glare hardened, "I didn't come in to murder him; I wanted to get information on your whereabouts. He admitted he had sent you into a deathtrap."

"There was no deathtrap," Clark retorted.

Superman and Wonder Woman, both in their costumes, looked in dismay at the human in the dark blue long-sleeved shirt and grey pants, still recovering his breath from Diana's brutal attack. He was blatantly ignoring their common conclusion that his words to Diana had been the trap within the ploy of giving Superman a location.

"Great Hera," Diana said after a moment, "I just wanted to help you return to how you were, Kal, before we captured him. His treacherous tongue whispered much venom into your ears. I do not want to keep losing you." It almost sounded like an apology to Kal.

Nonetheless, his fury was far from gone if the shakes in his hands were anything to go with. "You almost killed him because you got manipulated," Kal accused, very much in an aggressive stance.

Diana lifted one eyebrow at his alpha male's antics, "Did you not also get manoeuvred into one of his traps? That's what he does, Kal: manipulate people and plot devious ploys. It's time to kill him before he completely distorts your perspective."

Bruce stopped producing the wheezing noise, his inhalations and exhalations slowly returning to normal. Otherwise, he didn't make any move or sound as the two other parts of the Trinity fought over his fate.

"What are you talking about?"Kal replied.

"Do you really me to enumerate all the ways in which you changed since we captured him, Kal?" She glanced at Bruce listening in as a patient observer to their conflict, "Maybe, we should pursue this discussion elsewhere."

"Why don't you go, Diana? I have something to discuss with him first and we can talk after," Kal followed her pointed hint, but didn't want to let Bruce off the hook for all the problems he was responsible for. Diana gave him a wary look before answering: "Don't take too long." The glance she sent Bruce's way was murderous as she picked up her lasso.

Kal waited until Diana was out of the room to order the cell to close the walls behind her, trapping Kal and Bruce together in the bluish lighted place.

Kal's eyes quietly studied his unmoving foe, still intentionally disregarding his presence in a blatantly insulting move. Batman, compared to Diana and Kal, was weak, yet, he had manipulated both gods like string puppets. What was he trying to accomplish?

Kal paced with his hands on his back, forcing himself not to address Bruce until he had figured out what Bruce had wanted with his ploy to send him on a wild goose chase and to provoke Diana until she was willing to murder a prisoner under her exclusive guard.

Think, Clark, think.

***  
"You know, Clark, physically strong handling organizations is not always the best way to render them inefficient," his friend Lex Luthor had once told him.

"What do you mean?"

Lex had smirked, "Foster the inherent conflicts that undoubtedly exist between the organization's key players and they have an immense crisis on hand for which you are not identified as the enemy. And it has the added benefit of creating confusion in the leadership of the organization."

Clark had leaned on the table with a smile, "Are you telling me that's the strategy you use to take over the business world?"

"Hey, I'm doing my best to improve the world to the best of my abilities."

"You sure are," Clark had then lifted his glass, "To improving the world with our particular talents." They had chinked their wine glass on it and had continued their conversation.  
***

Kal glared at the man who had grown desperate enough to resort to business techniques to destabilize the Regime's strength. 

The sought results were twofold; one, in the best case scenario that Kal was captured by the Resistance, the Regime no longer had any hostage to use against them; two, in the second scenario that Kal escaped them and return to the Watchtower (which was highly likely), he would see that his second in command had disobeyed him and kill their prisoner of which he had made clear he would not tolerate someone else making decisions about. The tensions between the two highest ranking persons in the Regime might be enough to split into two or more factions. They might even self-destruct because of internal conflicts and the Resistance would just need to be ready to attack at the right time.

"You think you're so cunning, Bruce, to push Diana to kill you to create a conflict between us in hopes this will split the Regime into two? Not only is that a suicidal plan that shows, plain as day, how desperate you are, but it also wouldn't have worked," Kal snarled while circling his prey.

Bruce straightened his back and repositioned himself into the lotus pose. Kal itched to punch him like he punched Diana but he had to refrain doing so. He couldn't kill him. Yet.

"The Regime is nothing like your brittle organization that broke into pieces until there was nothing left. That's right; you're the last piece to break, to tame or to kill. You're ridiculously obsolete in my new world, especially with how you cling to the same dysfunctional and outdated principles."

Bruce seemed to be focusing on his breathing again.

"You were so talkative to Diana, but you are snubbing me, Bruce? That's not a smart move," Kal moved closer until he was positioned less than a foot from the mortal.

He lowered himself to Bruce's eye level and (finally) touched the man's right's shoulder with his left hand. The man tried to shake him away.

Kal didn't have to put much strength to pin the man to the wall. It was almost too easy.

Kal bent until his mouth was almost to Bruce's right ear and he whispered, "You showed me your weaknesses. You want to be murdered. Did you know, Bruce, that's what I was going to do to you up to the point where you tried to get Diana to kill you? Now... Now, I can't kill you or you'd take that as a win... You would say it proves how wrong and twisted I've become."

Although Bruce wasn't doing any brusque move, it was clear he was trying to scoot over from under Kal's dominion. Kal had never felt more like a God than now, feeling his chosen toy squirming in his hand like a mouse caught under a cat's cruel and relentless paws.

Kal backed his head until he was almost in front of the man with the steady heartbeat in the face of death, "But, your second weakness is even worse than your first... You see, the cell's walls were supposed to protect you from me until I got what I was seeking... You, with your grand clever schemes, forced your shield away, leaving you perfectly defenceless in front of a very angry God."

Kal wasn't sure if he had correctly sensed Bruce swallow, but his thunderous hunger only grew at the thought it had.

With a slight increase in pressure in his left hand, Kal could feel he had rendered Bruce physically uncomfortable as well as emotionally and psychologically.

"I think, you'll come to regret being so damn clever. I did warn you: "You have to learn how to be more obedient, Bruce, or it will continue to hurt." You've been pretty disobedient lately, Bruce. Maybe, it's time to make it hurt more," Kal murmured, a wolfish smile affixed on his lips and a ravenousness anger burning in his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Even wise or clever people bet on the wrong horse...


	19. Violated

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Bruce, Clark and all of their personal demons go dancing...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: this is the chapter in which there is a rape scene. It is considered mature, but not particularly explicit. It is very dark psychologically and emotionally, though not so much physically. One character is blatantly ignoring someone telling them "no".

Kal used his hand pinning Bruce's shoulder to keep the man in place as he came to the same side at Bruce's side as his pinning hand. 

"Bruce," Kal called out, almost kindly, still pinning one shoulder, "aren't you going to speak?" 

He could feel the fear mingling into his foe's breathing, infiltrating his bones to their core. Still, he remained in his lotus posture, trying to channel it away. Kal liked to see him breathe in and out, his Adam's apple small movement was enticing, especially with the bruising marks around it. 

But Kal wanted to see it from above. It was easy enough to resolve. Slowly, his pinning hand dragged the man's shoulder down until he was pinning the shoulder to the ground. Now, he had forced a reaction; Bruce's legs were no longer into a locus position and his breathing was uneasy as the man tried in vain not to be Kal's ragged doll. 

"Careful Bruce, you'll hurt yourself trashing around like that. We wouldn't want you to break another limb, would we?" Kal's unctuous tone dripped from his mouth like spoiled nectar. Bruce didn't seem to appreciate the fact Kal wasn't planning on breaking his limbs. Kal could see the wheels cogging in Bruce's carefully attuned mind. It wasn't hard for Bruce to conclude that if that wasn't the pain Kal wanted to inflict upon him, it would be much worst. 

Enjoying the tingle of overpowering his enemy, Kal simply enjoyed the build-up of the anticipation until, a bit annoyed at Bruce's useless movements, he sprayed his free hand on his slightly revealed stomach to cage him to the floor. 

Kal was surprised with the skin texture under his hand. He'd known Batman was massively scarred and had thought his skin would be rough and prickly. Kal had forgotten that scars normally meant the hair wouldn't grow back in the scar's immediate area (and Bruce's body and mind was nothing if not a work of scars overlapping one another). Factoring that in, it made sense for his hand to touch the smooth damaged skin without much hair cushioning the touch. The second surprise was the surprising smoothness of the skin although it felt irregular in its distribution across Bruce's stomach; sometimes, it was too tightly fitting the muscles, nerves and bones underneath (probably as a result of being burned) while at others, there were indentations or protuberances resulting of uneven healing scars. Still, Kal had forgotten scars meant it was new skin that now covered the person. 

He revelled in the making small exploratory expeditions with his fingers on Bruce's stomach. The man underneath him stopped squirming, his intuition probably aware that provoking Kal now was a bad idea. 

Smoothly, Kal's hand started to climb higher on the man's body, lightly lifting the mortal's sleeve shirt, with a perverse fascination he hadn't ever felt with any of the small number of women he had slept with; it was as if he was trying to decode the man's fears from his scars. 

When he reached Bruce's heart, his hand paused there a moment to thaw out to the massive organ's radiating heat. So fragile... so breakable, yet so cozy. 

His hand skimmed higher and higher, scrunching the shirt up until Kal's hand reached the marked spot on motionless Bruce's neck, Diana's trace on him. Bruce minutely winced back, still deathly quiet. Kal cruelly caressed the hurt area, revelling in his dominion and whispering in Diana's voice, "You liked being choked, right Bruce? I have always known you wanted me to loop my lasso around you and make you fight to breathe. Pain comes from the Greek verb Paino / prenomen, but we had many other words to describe it too. As you can see, I am somehow an expert at inflicting pain, Bruce. I can give it to you, even your favourite kind of pain: pathos." 

Bruce recoiled from the touch and tried to keep his head away. Kal removed his hands from under Bruce shirt to take the man's jaw in it without his hand being restricted, "Beloved, relax, I'll take care of you like I know you want me to. I might have poisoned you last time, Beloved, but this time, I choose a poison that only immobilizes you. You'll remember every part of our lovemaking. Let's make another child that will kill all of your unworthy ones."

Bruce paled at hearing Talia Al Ghul's voice and uttered, "Clark. Stop."

"Batsy, you seem a bit pale down there. All of your blood went down there? Don't worry, Bats, we'll take care of it," Joker's horrible voice came out of Kal's mouth with a cackle. 

Bruce's face shook under Kal's hand and pleaded, "Stop it, Clark." 

"Shush, Bat, or I'll find another warm body that can satisfy me. You're too uptight, you know. You should just enjoy it," Selina's voice purred as Kal's hand caressed his jaw. 

"Clark," Bruce elevated the tone, not so much in anger, but more as if he was drowning in despair. 

"Master Bruce," Alfred's voice rang in the room, "In the six months you have been here, I noticed you haven't even touched yourself even once."

"Stop," Bruce tried again. Kal took special delight in the soft despair in his foe's voice. It was time to upgrade the situation. Deliberately, he groped him through his pants, saying, still in Alfred's voice, "You have sexually repressed yourself far too long, Master Bruce. I will assist you this time to remedy the problem." 

Kal's hand continued exploring while his enemy unsuccessfully tried to escape the situation. There was no escape. Kal didn't need to cage him in his arms or to force his arms and legs away; nothing Bruce could do could help him get out of his problematic situation. And maybe, that, from Bruce's perspective, would be the worst part; the fact that despite only being held by his shoulder, all of his martial training couldn't help him get out of the hold. 

Foreplay was interesting only as far as it ratchets up the suspense and Kal could feel the mounting panic in Bruce's body. He slipped his hand inside the pants and underwear, already gripping and moving on the length as he would for himself, just a bit more gently. He focused on his enemy's signs of arousals, wanting more than anything, that he feels confusion and guilt at the feeling of his own pleasure, as Bruce was liable to feel.

"Bruce," Selina's voice purred, "I know you enjoy every bit of this. You want pleasure to be forced on you because you can't take it with your own hands." 

Something on Bruce's face flickered and he slowly said, "Lois Lane." Kal stopped what he was doing and almost backhanded him in the face. But he knew better. He knew Bruce would welcome physical pain over this psychological torture Kal was meting out

"Helena. Jon. Krypton. You're right, Bruce, they are all dead," Kal continued in his own voice while he resumed his activity farther down Bruce's body. 

"But there's more, isn't it? Your parents... Jason... Dick... Alfred... Selina... Talia... Damian... Tim... They are all dead too." Kal could feel Bruce's breathing becoming erratic as he increased the frequency of his hand's movement. 

"It's all your fault. They all died because they loved you," Kal unrelentingly continued. 

"You're cursed to be loved and to get those who love you murdered in brutal ways. How long do you think Jason got tortured by Joker? It must have been hours... Hours where you weren't in the right place at the right time. And Alfred... Szasz is known to play with his prey. He doesn't just outrightly kill them... He slowly tears them apart with small knife wounds... You must know; you're the one who found Alfred's corpse."

All the time, the Kryptonian was getting used to his hand's repetitive action. Kal knew Bruce was trying not to get affected by his actions and words and it seemed somewhat successful. He needed more ammunition. 

Kal stopped pining Bruce's shoulder and leaned in from Bruce's side until his mouth was almost on Bruce's, "And you never avenged them, because you're too good for them. So, when you say Lois, I know that deep down, you're jealous I got to kill the Joker when you wouldn't. I guess that just means I loved Lois more than you ever loved your son." That got a reaction, Kal reflected, as Bruce's face twisted in explosive anger and resentment and his jaw clenched shut. 

It still wasn't enough for Kal's liking. He opened his mouth and forcefully kissed his foe, mixing their saliva in something that was primal, raw and hard. A subvocal groan escaped Bruce's throat. Kal bit his enemy's lower lip while his free hand gripped the back of his head. Kal could feel Bruce's delayed arousal building in his groin area. Kal grinned as he remembered that revenge was best served cold. 

The Kryptonian didn't press his weight down on his victim. He just waited through Bruce's orgasm, brought on by Kal's deliberate actions. Bruce breathed heavily in the silence that followed. 

"Did you like it?" Kal insidiously questioned. Bruce turned his head on the side, shame and guilt stamped deep in his body.

"Who did you envision touching you? Selina? Talia? Diana?"

He paused for second before he added, "Joker? Alfred?"

Bruce's face barely held together on the last of his restraint. The thread was unravelling fast, Kal thought with satisfaction.

"It's sad your kids are all too dead to see how pathetic you have become." It started with small and quiet movements until it reached a fever pitched crescendo. The man was sobbing uncontrollably under Kal's satisfied gaze. This is how you break the Bat. 

For a long time, he simply carded his foe's hair or gently kissed him in a parody of a lover's reassurance, an action that invariably drew a flinch or a wince from the mortal. Kal didn't care to work out his own bulging need in his pants; there was nothing as sublime as his enemy's fall from grace. 

Maybe, at one time, Clark would have felt vindicated for his broken heart, but, really, he liked this blind Bruce's present vulnerabilities. He had finally broken all those walls and protection spells his friend had always carried with him. This was like he could finally touch his friend's very core without the prickly sting of rejections and untruths.

As Clark situated himself behind Bruce and cuddled close for more warmth, he couldn' t help but remember Robert Frost's famous poem: 

Some say the world will end in fire,  
Some say in ice.  
From what I've tasted of desire  
I hold with those who favor fire.  
But if it had to perish twice,  
I think I know enough of hate  
To say that for destruction ice  
Is also great  
And would suffice. 

Clark didn't know what had been the trigger for recalling the poem, especially since destruction seemed so far away now that he was spooning his still sobbing best friend. 

"Shush, Bruce, don't worry. I'll protect you from your nightmares. You'll be safe, I promise," Clark whispered into the other man's ear as he brought the man closer to his chest. Bruce just sobbed even harder. 

Clark gently rocked him against himself, "I love you, Bruce. I won't let anything or anyone hurt you again." Maybe this was what reassuring a frightened child felt like, Clark thought as a serene sleepiness spell took hold of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you haven't noticed, Kal is lying through his teeth: Bruce hasn't been there six months and Tim and Damian aren't dead.


	20. Confused

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Forget all about last chapter's bitter taste... Rinse and repeat.

On another Earth...

 

"Come on, B, stop sulking already," Superman said into his headpiece.

"I'm not sulking," the growling voice replied.

"You are the definition of sulking," Green Arrow's completely unrequested contribution could be heard in reply.

Superman could almost hear Bruce's voice chiding him for not properly choosing the setting of this conversation. He rolled his eyes, "You threw your tantrum in front of them, they get to hear the aftereffects."

"Because you are the Justice League leader, you can't be made to follow our Justice League's consensus decisions. I thought this was a democracy, not a despotic organization."

"Stop being such a sour "Bat". We all know your little "Trinity" are the ones actually making all the decision, despite it being a "democracy". You all have your secret meetings and all. You're just pissed Diana and Clark made a decision without consulting your "Honour" Batness. You're really such a poor loser," Green Lantern's helpful contribution sounded in Superman's earpiece. Superman had to admit starting this conversation now had not been one of his brightest ideas ever. The only thing this conversation would accomplish was crank up an already sourly Bruce.

"He just changed his and Diana's place in missions," Barry put in, "Colleagues do that all the time in healthy work environments."

"I don't think he knows what that is," Hal Jordan commented, "He lives in a Batcave in the certified madhouse of the States, which frankly, in itself, explains a lot about his mental health."

"At least, I have a mental health," Bruce retorted, "It proves I have some mental capacity, contrary to some other people listening in and giving their unwarranted opinions."

"Burn," a gleeful Ollie laughed.

"But, really, Bruce" (Bruce interrupted him with "Names!" here), Clark continued, "As Ba-Flash told you, we just switched missions. Our two missions are still getting done. Diana is a diplomate, for God's sake, she'll be fine."

"You do know you were supposed to go with J'onn because the K'tnchn have a cult around the eyes and you both have powers that affect the eyes? Besides, Diana's mastery of technology is nonexistent, turning her into a liability for that mission's objective." Batman's gruffly answered.

A silence greeted his words.

Hal responded with a hint of malicious pleasure, "I'm telling Diana you said that about her."

"Good," Batman continued, "I've been telling her for years she needs to upgrade her skills and she's been ignoring me. Maybe if it becomes a source of shame for her, she would finally deign to follow my advice."

"B, to be fair, the way you keep calling her "technology-adverse" or that you call her sword an "obsolete artifact" is not helping your case," Superman piped in.

"It is the truth."

"How did you not get killed by Wonder Woman by now?" a perplexed Barry asked.

"He's an expert at dodging swords," Superman dutifully answered.

"Well, maybe she would start taking technology lessons when he starts taking emotional intelligence fostering courses," Ollie proposed with his usual tact.

Of course, the mission went south at exactly that second with a gigantic blue portal (why were they always blue? Clark asked himself) sucking all of them into another world, dimension or timeline. Again.

Clark quickly glanced around at his new surroundings to verify his teammates were all intact (which they were, well, except for Bruce who looked particularly upset, whether at Clark or at being transported without permission was debatable).

Clark blinked at the line of people waiting for them and his eyes narrowed at Harley Quinn and Lex Luthor. In a split second, Superman was hoisting Lex in the air by his shirt and asking, "What are you plotting?"

Batgirl pushed Batwoman's guns to point the ground as she said, "Easy, Superman. He's one of the good guys here."

Superman didn't know how to digest that tidbit.

Lex glared at him with no visible intention of hiding his deep-seated hatred, "Let me go so we can talk like the civilized people some of us are."

Superman continued holding him up, not willing to let any Lex Luthor dictate his moves. The stalemate was broken when Bruce touched Superman's shoulder, "Let him down, Superman. They don't seem to be looking for a fight with us."

Superman exchanged a look with Batman and decoded the unspoken message of "observe the situation before you rush in like an idiot." Looking more closely around, he could see this world's people were clearly wary of them but didn't seem to have any Kryptonite or other similar weapons. With an exhale, Superman let Lex down and stepped back.

Lex coughed once before glowering directly at Superman as he dusted his clothes and addressed his speech at Batman, "Thanks for getting your rabid dog under control. We've got lots to do."

"Lex," Batgirl scolded him, "Don't antagonize them. We need their help, not the other way around."

Lex took off with disdain. Batgirl turned to the dimension travellers and casually explained, "Ignore him; he's betting a lot on you. We'll explain everything in our strategy room; it will be much more comfortable than here."

They all followed them in silence and Superman could see Batman was already comparing the differences between this world's Lex, Harley Quinn, Barbara and Kate and their own. 

Surprisingly enough, Batgirl was the one who sat at the head of the table. Lex and Batwoman sat beside her while Harley just took a seat between empty chairs and casually stretched her feet on the table. Superman's team all took a seat and they looked at the persons that summoned them for some elucidation. 

"I'll give you a brief summary of our situation and you can choose to help us or not afterwards. If you refuse, we'll just send you back to your world," Barbara Gordon, still dressed as Batgirl, explained. 

"You see, both our worlds progress in similar fashion. Five years ago, our Justice League was almost identical to how yours presently is. But, everything changed when Joker fomented a plan against someone other than Batman." 

Harley Quinn sighed, "Pudding really had bright ideas." Batwoman and Lex openly looked daggers in her direction.

Batgirl ignored the interruption, "Joker went after our world's Superman by kidnapping his pregnant wife Lois Lane." Superman could feel the gazes of his comrades, as well as the new world's inhabitants, resting on him. He was already fearing how this would develop. In his world, Lois Lane was his fiance and they were due to marry in a few months' time. He didn't like the bad vibes he was getting from the storytelling. 

"Joker doused Lois in fear toxin, meaning that our world's Superman saw Doomsday instead of her when he came to rescue his wife. Still under the impression he was fighting Doomsday, Superman brought her to the outer atmosphere, thus killing her and the baby." Superman tried not to fidget at the thought of his Lois dying by his own hands. Batman touched him with his knee under the table. It helped ground him back to the unfolding situation.

"Metropolis also exploded," Batgirl continued after a brief pause, trying to let the facts sink in, "because Joker linked a bomb to Lois's heartbeat. Millions died that day."

Green Arrow commented, "I hope to God you got hold of Joker and made him pay."

Batwoman scoffed, "That's the problem." Batman's gaze hardened.

Batgirl sadly confirmed, "That day, Superman killed a captured Joker."

This time there was a lengthy pause meeting the statement. 

"Oh shit," Green Lantern exclaimed. 

"From there on, Superman started to take justice into his own hands, stopping wars and stealing nuclear weapons. That's when the Justice League split into two distinct factions: one who approved his leadership and one who contested his right to take everything into his own hands." That probably explained why this world's people didn't seem to trust Superman at all, Kal thought as his stomach lurched at the worsening predicament of this world.

"Wait, so, I'm guessing you're all part of the group going against Superman," Barry noted. Bruce gritted his teeth as if he already knew the answer.

"We are," Batgirl confirmed.

"And my counterpart was part of this group," Batman crossed his arms on his chest.

"You were the leader, Bruce, until you got captured by them many weeks ago. This plan of bringing your group here was actually your counterpart's plan."

Superman felt increasingly sick, "What happened to this world's Batman?"

Batgirl opened her mouth to answer but Lex was faster, "He was lobotomized. This world's you does that to those he considers villains." Harley Quinn gave him a strange look. 

Batman interfered, "I doubt I would invoke another world's help if the possible repercussions were spreading the danger into a peaceful world. It is a reckless endeavour."

Batwoman argued, "I don't think you truly understand how desperate we have become." 

"We've already tried the Green Lantern Corp, the Greek Gods, magic, evil clones and Kryptonite," Batgirl enumerated, "And, that's with the advantage of knowing what the Regime is up to because Lex is spying on them." 

Superman glanced at Lex disdainfully fixing his eyes on him, "I am risking my life to stop this world's supreme dictator from further ruining our world." Superman avoided his gaze, suffocating under the knowledge his counterpart was the villain while Lex was the hero.

"Please tell me I'm not part of the Regime," Green Arrow pleaded.

"You're not," Harley Quinn answered and, after he smiled, she added, "You were killed five years ago."

"Oh." Green Arrow's smile quickly waned. Hal and Barry exchanged a look. 

It was becoming harder and harder for Superman to breathe in. "Can't we talk it out?"

Harley Quinn giggled, "That's a good one! You should'have been a comedian!" 

Lex glared at him and replied with every ounce of sarcasm possible, "Thank you for reminding us of that viable option. The last person who tried to talk you out of this madness got his back broken and he got off easy because he was your former best friend. Not too long ago, you-this world's Superman- vaporized a fan club of Joker with your heat-vision. Last time I tried to even make a suggestion, you almost killed me." Okay, it was official, this Lex hated him even more than his world's Lex did. Superman hadn't believed it was humanly possible.

"Why are we here?" Batman interfered before the debate could further devolve. 

Batgirl and Lex exchanged a look before Lex explained, "The original plan was to get Wonder Woman, Green Lantern, Green Arrow, Flash and Batman to open up the secret Kryptonite vault you had with your in-the-worst-case scenario Superman weapon. This world's Batman sent strange messages to bait the right individuals from your world. Your team was supposed to have Wonder Woman instead of Superman. Apparently, you miscalculated." Even though Batman didn't move a hair, Superman knew he was furious at being manipulated by another Batman. Although Superman wanted to point out it was just retribution for all of Bruce's ruses, the situation was too serious for casual jokes. 

"You had no backup plans before you summoned us?" Batman insisted, clearly annoyed. 

Batwoman glared exasperatedly at him, "You didn't exactly make any before you got captured."

"And it's not as if we have tons of options," Batgirl answered, "The longer this takes, the more our chances of getting caught heightens. We have been lucky not to be caught until now. Our luck and resources are running out."

"There is only so much sabotage I can do inside the system before I get caught," Lex replied, "Nonetheless, we do have some allies we can call in if we are starting a battle. But, that will be our final gambit. We can't survive another loss."

"By calling us here on half-baked plans, you are putting all of us at risk for very slim chances of victory. There's practically nothing to gain from our intervention," Batman sternly continued. 

Batwoman, Batgirl and Lex faced off with Superman's world's Batman in a staring contest nobody seemed to win. 

Superman knew it was time he interfered before Bruce completely destroyed his counterpart's plan, "Can we have a moment to talk it over?"

Batgirl nodded and this world's counterparts left the room. 

"We need to help them out," Barry spoke out. 

"How much of what they said can we trust?" Green Arrow answered. 

"If what they are saying is true, we need to help them out," Green Lantern piped in. 

"I don't trust them," Batman replied, "They are hiding at least one thing from us."

"Come on, Bruce, they are obviously in need of our help. If we just need to fact check what they are saying, I think we can arrange to gather information." 

Green Arrow nodded, "I say we try to gather our own idea of the situation and if they are not lying, we plan to help them out."

Flash and Green Lantern nodded. Superman prodded Bruce with his elbow, "Bruce?"

Batman moved away from him, "Fine, we investigate. Arrow, Flash and Lantern, try to get as much information as you can from here." At Superman's nod, everyone moved out except Batman and Superman. 

"I'll x-ray the faculty and...," Superman added after a moment. 

"No," Batman interrupted, "Spy on them. I want to know what they omitted telling us."

Superman lifted an eyebrow, "They probably moved to an area I can't listen in because I don't hear them anymore."

"Make a hole in the wall and listen in," Batman replied with an annoyed look, "We're not getting involved in something this dangerous without knowing what they are hiding from us."

"Fine," Superman agreed, just because he knew Bruce was too stubborn to bend on that point, "But, if it is benign, we are helping them out."

Batman scowled at him, "You still owe me an explanation for switching places with Diana."

Superman stopped himself from swallowing, "Come on, Bruce, you heard the others; it's not important. You're just being difficult with the details again." 

"The fact you continued that conversation with them around is suspicious in itself. You are hiding something," Bruce continued. The problem with Bruce's intuition was that it was almost always spot on. 

Superman sighed, "I'll go eavesdrop on them."

He flew away from Bruce's inquisitive stare. He found the counterparts' place not long after because he had heard where they had walked away. Pressing one finger in, he breached the room and he listened in. 

"...why lie about Batman's present position? You know for a fact he hasn't been lobotomized. They could help us rescue him," Harley Quinn's voice commented. What was going on?, Clark thought.

"It's too risky," Lex's voice cut in.

"Originally, our plan was to avoid lying," Batgirl responded, "Because the last thing we need is them doubting what we are saying."

"That's the approach we agreed upon," Batwoman acquiesced. 

"If it was Wonder Woman and not Superman, our strategy would have stood. Now, we can't use it," Lex reasoned. 

"Why not?" Batgirl pushed with intent but there was no annoyance in her voice. 

"You haven't seen how obsessed this world's Superman is with Batman. It is highly likely he already killed him. We are not putting our mission at risk for a rescue mission that's liable to fail, especially since Superman's defences in that area are extremely good. Batman certainly wouldn't want us to sacrifice the mission for him. If we can both defeat Superman and save Batman, that's even better, but we are not putting the mission at stake for him."

"What exactly is your point?" Batwoman went straight to the point.

"All I'm saying is how do you think this Superman will react when he learns his counterpart is currently holding his best friend's counterpart prisoner and torturing him? Have you seen how he paled at the simple mention that his counterpart broke this Batman's back?"

"I noticed. He looked sick at the very thought of hurting Bruce," Batgirl quietly answered.

"He doesn't have to know all the ugly history between them in this world," Lex stated.

"You mean Alfred, Dick and Selina?" Batwoman asked. 

Why were those names enumerated?, Superman asked himself. He could feel his hands shake. Don't tell me I killed them in this world? That's impossible... I can't be that much of a monster... Superman could feel his panic bubbling inside his head.

"Right," Lex continued, "I think it's for the best we avoid mentioning anything about it. For all we know, Superman might have lobotomized Batman in his cell. It's not necessarily a lie."

Superman barely heard the women agreeing with his enemy's counterpart. He had to steady himself on the wall. Batgirl had told them earlier that their counterparts had been basically the same as they were five years prior. This Superman had once been a superhero and Bruce's best friend and, now, he was torturing him. What was wrong with this world? With this version of himself? 

When Superman heard the counterparts walking toward the meeting place, he hid in the small hallway. 

They passed him by but Harley Quinn retraced her steps with a stupid excuse ("I've lost my sanity in the other room. I'll go get it.") and turned in his hallway, "Supey, I know you're here. I saw your finger pass through the wall so, I know you've been eavesdropping on our earlier conversation."

Superman had no choice but to show himself. 

"Wowie, you really look pale! Are you sick? I'm a doctor, you know, I can check you out."

Superman pushed aside the hand prodding his ribs, "Stop joking. I'm not in a mood for this."

She tilted her head at him and grinned, "This isn't even your world," she patted him on the arm, "Don't take things so personally, Supey."

Superman glared at her, "Did you help Joker kill this world's Lois?"

She lifts one finger in the air in a dramatic gesture, "Technically, Pudding didn't kill her. The other you did it."

Superman took her wrist in his hand and moved it away. He tried to still be civil with her. His Ma had taught him good manners, after all. "You still haven't answered my question."

"I helped him," she confessed without hesitation. 

Superman took another look at her, "Why have they let you in here?"

"Weren't you listening?" she replied, "They're really, really, really desperate for help. I'm not the sole villain's help they enlisted."

Superman sighed, "Let's get back."

Harley smiled, "If that's what you chose to do." She whistled a badly tuned "It's a Small World" while walking like an overly enthusiastic little girl would have done. Superman abruptly stopped, "Wait."

She turned around, "Yes?"

"What do you mean by "if that's what you chose to do"?" 

She smiled and he felt as if he had been baited into her trap, "Weeeeeeeeell, you could save our Bats if you want to. I can even help you do it."

He frowned as he caught up to her, "You all just agreed to concentrate on saving your world. Why would you want me to save Batman?"

She threw some gum into her mouth and started chewing, loudly. In between her chewing, she slowly admitted, "Maybe I'm a bit nostalgic for the time he and Mr. J played around. Maybe... I understand wanting to save someone so badly I'd literally do anything to make it come true."

Superman knew listening to her was a terrible idea. She seemed unrepentant, petulant and careless about the ultimate fate of the world. Still, somewhere, somewhere deep inside himself, he couldn't help but want someone (anyone, even a villain, for that matter) to tell him he should save the things and people that really mattered to him instead of choosing the best outcome in the grand scheme of things. 

He couldn't let this Bruce die at his counterpart's hands. Even if it was a childish wish, even if it was a longshot of saving this Batman from torture, he'd do it.

"What are you suggesting?" Superman asked, his mind's debate almost finished, half a second after Harley had told him her (probably fake) motivations for helping him. 

Her lips curled up in a victorious grin, "Easy peasy, Supey! You go back there and help plan the counterattack. Then, just before it is launched, you walk to the nearest station and get transported up to the Watchthingie by bullying everyone around. As long as you act like you own the place, it's unlikely anyone will stop you. You grab Bats and get the hell out of there. Mission accomplished."

Superman shook his head, "It's better to discuss it with everyone."

"Nuh uh," the blonde villainess's bubble grew in a splash of red. It popped and she chewed it pensively. "We both know your Bats will sacrifice himself if it means giving our world a slightly better chance of survival. But suit yourself: tell them or not. I really don't care either way." 

Superman watched her retreat to the conference room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did mention at the start of this fic, no counterparts from another dimension had been summoned yet. Well, now they are...
> 
> This chapter was somewhat lenghtier than the usual ones for this fic; it seemed fitting to describe the travellers' arrival in one shot.


	21. Freed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Basic math. Which is the most appropriate equation to sum up the current situation?
> 
> Superman x 2 = ?
> 
> Or 
> 
> Evil Superman + Not Evil Superman = ?

Clark had figured out, a long time ago, that he didn't need to convince Bruce if he convinced everyone else to follow his idea. In that case, Batman normally had to cut his losses and (grudgingly) help them out to lower the risks involved. It wasn't a trick Clark would use very often, though, because his best friend knew exactly what he was doing and hated every second of it.

It had been almost too easy for Superman to convince his teammates (except Batman, of course) to let him save this world's Batman and to fight off Evil Superman, as Barry had taken to calling him.

It had been even easier to convince this world's Insurgency to accept it as a condition for their help. Harley Quinn had told the truth of the matter when she had told him they were truly desperate. 

It had been easy to infiltrate the Watchtower and find this world's Batman holding cell by pretending to be Evil Superman. 

It had been too easy to open the Kryptonian holding cell without any alarms blaring off. It was basically the same tech (mixed with some human tech) Clark had used for his Fortress of Solitude's "zoo" in which the survivors of species could be kept safe. The idea churned in his stomach as the cell's door opened; his evil counterpart had chosen Bruce as an embodiment of Earth's survivors. That reasoning chafed Clark's morals while brushing too close for comfort to his own behaviour. 

Clark looked over this world's Bruce with his x-ray and found nothing abnormal. He exhaled in relief: at least, his counterpart hadn't been as terrible as Lex Luthor had feared. Bruce, eyes shut, continued viciously punching the air as if he wanted to dismember it. 

"Uh, Batman?" No response. 

"I know this might be confusing, but I'm not this world's Superman. I was summoned by your intervention to help your world and, also, to save you from here. We have some attacks planned in a few moments' time. Let's get out of here." Still, no movements came from Bruce that demonstrated the man had even heard him.

"Bruce? Are you deaf? And why are your eyes closed?" Clark stepped forward, trying to ascertain what was wrong with this man. He tried to gently grab Bruce's arm except the arm was hurriedly taking out of his path by a snarling man, so similar and different to his world's Batman at once that Clark felt a heartache starting. 

"Bruce? What's wrong?" The man, half feral feline, eyes still pressed shut, retreated from Clark's advance until he was backed in a corner of the cell.

Clark knew it had been too easy until now: he just didn't think the issue would be Bruce's unwillingness to be saved. Technically, he could just grab his best friend's counterpart and fly back. However, it felt wrong on so many levels...

Clark stepped back, "Bruce, please listen to me; we don't have time for this. Please, please, let me help you..."

"No," the cold voice cut in, thus proving Bruce could hear him all along, "I'm not falling for that ever again."

Clark had no idea what he was talking about. He scanned Bruce's body up and down with his normal vision and noticed this older version of his best friend was barefoot and had lost weight (compared to his world's Batman), although it was clear he wasn't starved nor cold. 

"Falling for what exactly?"

Bruce hissed when Clark took one step forward, "Don't. Touch. Me."

Clark sensed his breath getting sucker-punched into the void Bruce's statement had left.

"I swear I'm not this world's Superman."

"That's a new approach," Bruce muttered, his teeth momentarily bared.

"It's true. I don't even know why you refuse to look at me. I'm just here to save you."

"Ah, you'll play my loyal protector this time." The dripping acidity could have burned through an entire mountain. 

"What are you talking about?" Clark swallowed, increasingly worried about this man's sanity. 

Bruce gestured at the room, "Go play hero elsewhere, monster, I'm not playing your games."

Clark shifted from one foot to another before he decided enough was enough and he grabbed Bruce's hand and pulled it to his heart. Bruce's vain efforts to be released were symptomatic of a deeper problem Clark didn't have time to delve into, "Do you sense my heart? It's on the opposite side of this world's people heart. Now, can you listen to me and let me help you?"

After a brief struggle, this world's Bruce hand trembled on his chest. Something tightened in Clark's chest, something he didn't have time to examine. 

"Is it true?" the human's voice scratched in a surreal terrorized hope as he opened his eyes. Clark released the hand and it seemed to linger on his beating chest for a beat more than necessary, like a petal on the pond's surface the moment before it plunges in its depth.

"Yes," Clark felt compelled to admit out loud, as he blinked at the sightless eyes, still gleaming brilliantly in their uselessness. 

"Good," Bruce's answered, any hint of vulnerabilities having retracted from his voice. 

Clark felt destabilized by the rapidity of the changes. "Let's go-"

The alarms blared. Clark heard his own voice ordering everyone to the teleporter deck. He cringed at the anger inflecting it.

Batman lifted one unimpressed eyebrow, "Your plan?"

"Uh, we should probably wait until they have teleported away before we try to escape. I'll keep an ear on them," Clark responded, crossing his fingers nobody had figured out his arrival. It would be easy for him to be overpowered if everyone else on board attacked him at once and, then, what would happen to this Bruce?

The blind man walked out of his cell while keeping a wary eye (he's blind, right? Clark had to second-guessed himself) on Clark.

Clark tapped his arm and analyzed this other version of his best friend. Other than the eyes, he didn't seem to have any other recent physical injuries... However, from what he could gather from Bruce's reactions, his counterpart had enjoyed mind games. He tried not to imagine why Bruce would ask not to be touched or why he kept saying he had heard enough.

"Stop," Bruce said. 

"What?" Clark was startled out of his thoughts.

"Focus on getting us out."

"That's what I'm doing."

"No," Bruce shook his head, "If you're anything like... you are thinking about inconsequential matters. Focus solely on the mission. You shouldn't have even come here."

Clark blinked at the argument he'd heard so many time from his world's Batman. He chided this man, in the same manner, he would have with his world's Bruce, "Hey, stop that. You're the head of the Insurgency, of course, it's worth the risk." Clark could hear the Regime members slowly teleporting away from the Watchtower.

Bruce's sharp features felt even sharper when illuminated by the harshness of the artificial light outside the cell. "That's not why you are here," he accused. Clark sighed, "We're not talking about this, now."

Bruce's eyes furrowed, "Have you ever killed anyone?"

"No."

Bruce closed his eyes and leaned back. Clark could hear the lack of noise in the teleporting deck signalling it was now empty. 

"Superman," Evil Superman's voice came from the intercom, "I know you're there." Clark swallowed as he gazed at this world's Batman. He had really wanted to get Bruce to safety before confronting his evil counterpart. 

"Come to the meeting room." The intercom beeped. 

Clark bit his lips, trying to figure out a way to save Batman. 

Clark opened his mouth and closed it before he could say something this Bruce would misconstrue as an insult. Well, there was only limited ways to say it, "Batman, I know you'll be angry about my suggestion, but, seeing as I can't take you away now, maybe we should put you back into the cell? It could keep you safe until I come back."

"You are not putting me back in the cell alive."

Clark carded his hair back and decided, "Fine. But, don't get out of the room, okay?"

The human sent a defiant look his way without flinching. 

Clark briefly closed his eyes, reining his exasperation before declaring, "I'm going. Stay safe." 

"Don't kill," Bruce whispered. 

Clark blinked and understood that Bruce's genuine request was: Don't become like him.

Clark nodded and, on recalling this Bruce's blindness, he solemnly promised, "If I have anything to say about it, nobody is dying tonight." A heavy silence met his words.

Clark flew to his counterpart's meeting room, attempting to forget the aggrievement he'd seen in his best friend's counterpart's face. 

In the meeting room, Clark could see a long table with one place put on a pedestal behind which Evil Superman was waiting. Clark had time to note the large lead box at the other occupant's side before the counterpart addressed him. 

"Superman," the other Superman said with the disdain he had never heard in his own voice. 

Clark didn't retort; he relaxed the fists he didn't know he was clenching. 

"You shouldn't have come here. This is my world, my Earth. You've already got yours."

"Justice knows no bounds. Where there are pain and injustice, I feel it is my duty to help," Clark answered, trying to glimpse a crumb of humanity in the disturbing doppelganger. 

The man glared, "That's what I did. Yet you stand before me and say you'll steal what I have."

"Earth is not yours. It's everyone's. You stole their freedom away. You killed. You tortured your best friend. That's not what the S stands for," Clark frowned. He couldn't detect any trace of remorse, sadness or regret from the other version of himself. 

Evil Superman shook his head, "That's because you're as blind as I was before I lost the one I confide in; the one who understands me the best; the one I'd come to miss more than any other when they disappeared from my life. You don't even know the value of what you have in your possession. You don't know what I'm willing to do to have it all back." Clark had felt a similar bone-chilling inducing sensation from someone else. He just couldn't put his finger on the name.

Clark clenched his fists again, his tongue thick with the taste of dread, "You're not stealing Lois away." His words may have been distorted by anger and fear.

Evil Superman smirked. His eyes gleamed with insanity in a way that almost made Clark flinch away. "You are me." 

"I'm nothing like you!" Clark gathered himself up to intimidate the other version of himself. 

"Not yet," Evil Superman confirmed in a way that was condescending, "You're not. But, if you losses everything, you'll be me." 

"Why would you want me to lose? You know how it feels to despair; you've mourned for her. Why would you want me to suffer through it too?" Clark tried to reason, tried to find common ground with himself.

Evil Superman asserted, "I despise you, Clark, more so than anyone I've ever known."

Clark blinked at the blatant (and strange) accent of truth in the statement. 

"I'm sending you to a special hell," Evil Superman grinned, "Then, you'll understand. You'll see the world my way, I guaranty." 

"I won't become you," Clark swore, his body braced in anticipation of the incoming attack that was sure to fall.

Evil Superman flicked open the lead box beside him and he deliberately observed Clark's blood draining from his face. His heart also paused for a moment, almost as if it was desperately searching for the rewind command. 

Clark saw himself move as fast as his evil counterpart.

His hands reached as far as he could; his legs propelled him as fast as he could; his face twisted in a prayer. 

His mind and body only knew one imperative word. 

Please. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last evil cliffhanger for this fic...


	22. Willed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the aftermath of the Supermans' battle, choices must be made and lives must be set in motion.

The hard cold floor shook under Bruce's feet as the battle raged in another section of the Watchtower. A mortal man like him could easily get swept away by the maelstrom that was a match between superheroes with Superman's powers. That had never deterred him before. It certainly didn't at right this moment either.

Barefooted, he found himself holding on the wall as he made his way to the battleground. He sensed he had to see this through.

He pushed back the encroaching thoughts of Clark. Emotions had no place on the battlefield.

The tremors stopped, leaving a deceitful calm, a vacuum of power. Bruce had to hurry, had to control the situation.

He stumbled forward, without weapons, to his possible doom the same way a repentant sinner walks to salvation.

He smelled the meeting room long before he was physically there. It was the pernicious stink he wished he didn't recognize so well: coppery blood and charred body. It had to be a copious amount of blood for it to smell that strongly that far away even if Bruce's smelling senses had fewer rivals vying for attention... As for the burnt smell that drifted, it wasn't just body parts but also the very distinctive tang of burnt hair.

He could hear something akin to a small animal's whimpers on the other side of the door. It was better to confront the reality than to wait in the dark for a potential saviour or enemy, Bruce knew, so he opened the door.

In there, the smell of tragedy was overpowering: blood, hair, body and tears, if that last item had any smell. The sniffles and almost silent wailing informed Bruce the live occupant had to be one of the Superman; his mind conjured the other Superman has the most likely culprit, seeing how Bruce had doubts this world's Superman still had tears to shed.

Bruce needed the bare facts. Anyway, he wryly thought, it's not as if he could teleport out of here blind and without a clue on how Cyborg had modified everything technological since the splitting of the Justice League.

He sensed the noise was made about halfway in the room, at his thigh's approximate's height. Whoever existed in that room, was most likely curled in a ball or kneeling on the ground.

"Which one are you?" his growling voice demanded, his mind noting his slightly higher tone, proof his usual self-discipline was wavering. He couldn't afford to show any feelings.

There was a slight pause in the sniffles before someone addressed him while they were looking at the floor, effectively muffling the answer, "The one who broke his promise."

No. No. No. The nightmare of 'that' day repeating itself... Another God felled by Bruce's hand.

Bruce cynically replied, "I'd be a fool to rely solely on your statement. He was, in all likelihood, listening in."

He could sense the air movement as the person on the ground turned in his direction, stifling his sniffles and slowly deposing something on the ground as if it more fragile than porcelain. The Kryptonian came with measured and weightless steps, less human than Bruce had ever heard him walk; as if any pretence of being human had been viciously stripped away.

"Give me your hand," the raspy voice Bruce knew too well, softly requested. His every sense wanted to rebel.

Still, Bruce trusted his hand into the void.

A hand, bloodied, gently took his arm and pulled it to a beating chest, one with an erratic heartbeat, one on the wrong side of a human body, one from another world. Bruce almost outwardly sighed in relief. The bloodied grip reluctantly released and an unfeeling voice asked, "Is that good enough?"

Bruce nodded and the Kryptonian's steps numbly retraced his route back to what he had left unattended. Bruce could feel him picking up his discarded charge as if Bruce hadn't distracted him from it.

"What happened?"

Bruce's educated guess about the Kryptonian's movement was that he was swaying back and forth whatever he had in his arms.

It was almost a surprise when the Kryptonian delicately answered, "He heard his heartbeats."

"What?"

"He heard his heartbeats when Bruce went outside the hiding spot to implement our plan. He went to check on the sound, on your sound," Kal simply explained, his voice drained of emotions. Something very similar to guilt was blossoming in Bruce's fractioned heart.

"He searched my heartbeat and found out I was here. He..."Kal cut himself here, "He bragged he fooled Bruce by pretending to be me. He removed his utility belt, tied him up and stuffed him into a lead box. He told me he despised me. He wanted to confront me alone. To hurt me. He sent everyone away, got me here and opened the box so I could see his hand pierced through Bruce's chest. I was too slow..."

Kal had grown quiet again, mourning another version of Bruce. The human hated his part in the circumstances (why... why had he grown desperate enough to risk ruining another world to save this one? To save this Clark?), but he knew his counterpart's death, as tragic as it was, was not the issue he should be currently addressing.

"And then?"

"We fought," Kal wearily responded, "We fought and I couldn't even keep my promise to you..." Bruce had known since Kal's initial answer that Kal had killed Clark. Some part of him wanted to mourn, wanted to hate Kal for killing his former friend, even if Clark had more than asked for it. Another part wanted to rejoice that nightmare was over. Most of him felt old and tired; that all of this was an utter waste of potential. Bruce pushed those useless emotions away and focused on the relevant information.

"Did you have to kill him?" Bruce inquired after a moment, wanting the Kryptonian to tell him it was in self-defence or that the fate of the world hung on that one move.

"No," Kal neutrally and truthfully answered, "He killed Bruce." No remorse, no guilt, no justification and no excuse. Just a statement of fact. A motive for the useless murder, a revenge Kal shouldn't have accomplished, heedless blood staining his idealism, his innocence and his stellar heroic legacy.

Bruce's stomach churned. He wanted to lean on something, to shut his eyes and let the world govern itself.

Joker had won.

He had corrupted this world's Superman into becoming his counterpart's Joker.

And it was all, irrevocably, Bruce's fault. He'd fail both worlds, both Superman.

Even blind, he had the sensation of vertigo combined with a chilling sensation running up his spine. He had once felt this exact sensation, except it had been worse then.

Bruce had realized he had been in love with Clark the very instant Clark's hand pierced through Joker's chest, thus ending both Bruce's archenemy's life and irrevocably changing Clark's. The man had known he loved Clark the very moment Clark had ceased being the person Bruce loved.

It would be so easy to act with this Superman, this mirror image of his former best friend, the same way he had done when Clark had murdered Joker. To suffer so much he withdrew in himself, formulating plans to soften the fall he couldn't help but foretell.

The higher they fly, the longer they fall. Clark fell. And fell. And fell. Killed. Imprisoned. Tortured. Fell. Clark felt so low he rivalled his former villains with his means and his goals...

Diana, on the other hand, had done the opposite of Bruce; she had stood by Clark's side, trying to help him through his grief. Bruce had been grateful she had stood by Clark (although he had been worried about the Insurgency's chances of success against the duo's might) until he realized how truly corrupted she had also become: she had tried to kill him when he was imprisoned and unarmed.

Bruce had sent Clark on a wild-goose chase to distract him from the Insurgency's plan to summon counterparts from another world. He had meant to provoke Diana (the only one Clark would trust with guarding Bruce) as sparks for some in-fighting between the two de facto leaders, thus splitting the Regime's loyalties. He knew he had miscalculated when Diana, instead of respecting the rules of war stipulating you can't kill prisoners, had tried to murder him.

As much as Diana had probably been a calming influence on Clark since his wife's death, she had been the one who had ended up being distorted by the very thing she sought to protect.

Bruce knew it would be foolish to do the same as she had done. Still, his mind raced for a solution for this 'other' Superman that was already worse than this world's Superman. This Superman had resorted to murder after losing one sole person while Clark had lost his wife, his unborn child and his city before he had cracked. This Kryptonian had to be contained before another Regime could be implemented or another world destroyed.

Judging him through this world's court system would be inadequate, especially considering some may argue he had committed regicide. It would take a long time to mend the damages Clark had done to the justice system. As for judging him through his world's court systems, they had no jurisdiction to deal with the matter (all proofs were in another dimension) and it would be hard to assemble a jury to ponder whether Superman was guilty or not.

Having the other world's Superman closely monitored by his Justice League was a terrible idea; hadn't this world's counterpart already proved the failings of that plan? The Justice League members were far from being impartial in the matter...

Putting a collar or a similar controlling item on Superman in case he goes mad was unethical. Moreover (and more to the point), it was inevitable that at some point in time, a villain would get ahold of said security measure and either control him directly or use him as a hostage. With the advancement of technologies (alien or otherwise) and the obvious irrational use of magic, there were no foolproof safeguards.

Imprisoning Superman in a red solar powered room for an indeterminate amount of time for responding to Bruce's own request for help during dire straits was undeniably cruel...

During the few minutes it had taken Bruce to run through the possibilities, Kal hadn't let down his burden, the one Bruce could deduct being his counterpart's corpse.

This Superman needed to be closely monitored and restrained in a way to limit the harm he may afflict on others.

Bruce finally stepped into the room, walking closer to the fallen Kryptonian, his decision made.

"Don't come closer," Kal warned him, with his face still facing the ground, "there are glass and other broken items on the ground." Bruce continued walking toward his target, not even bothering to answer.

He could feel Kal's tired gaze resting on him, "You're hurting yourself." The human could feel the lacerations in his feet, but, really, that was the least of his problems.

Finally, he heard a whoosh and he was dropped on the table, his legs dangling over the edge. Kal's voice was no longer numb when he gritted out, "I told you to stop."

Bruce felt himself glare with his eyes still shut. He crossed his arms on his chest, "And I didn't."

"Exactly," Kal's impatience was flaring at Bruce's petulance. Good, he was getting a reaction.

"Who won?"

Kal didn't answer for a long time, probably because he was using his superhearing. "The Insurgency. We got almost all of our Justice League involved. They'll be here soon."

Bruce nodded.

"They'll treat you," Kal's voice returned to one of detachment.

"I'm not meeting them" Bruce answered, prompting another long silence from the Kryptonian.

"What's your deal?" Kal angrily bit back, "I just lost my best friend that looks and acts almost exactly like you. Stop acting recklessly."

You should talk, Bruce wanted to answer; your counterpart pretended he was my family. I thought I had a child with Selina. I had even decided to name the child Jonathan if it was a boy to protect him from your counterpart's wrath. Your counterpart killed (personally or through an agent) Alfred, Selina, Damian and Tim. He taunted me with the possibilities I could never have. 

Bruce took a restrained breath. It wasn't this Superman that had been responsible for most of his losses.

"I'm not purposefully trying to upset you," Bruce lied, omitting the fact this was the best he could do to rattle the Kryptonian out of his grief. "I'm not staying around for their rescue and you're my only way out of here."

Kal sighed, clearly too emotionally drained to be indulgent, "Can't this wait? I'll bring you down soon enough."

"It can't. I'm not staying around for the aftermath cleaning," Bruce answered, putting his hands on his legs.

"What do you mean?"

"I'm tired," Bruce let most of his facade ease away, letting the weariness of being the Insurgency's leader and having most of his allies and friends attempting to murder him for five fruitless years appear on his face. "I'm due for a vacation," Bruce lied, knowing duty always came before his health.

"A vacation?" Kal seemed disbelieving and a tad angry at Bruce's use of 'vacation' in a room where his best friend had just died.

"I'm getting the Javelin's upgraded security codes from Lex Luthor and I'm going away on a trip. I'm in no shape to deal with any of this," Bruce explained.

There was a pause before Kal bluntly told him, "You're blind."

Under his eyelids, Bruce rolled his eyes. He quirked one eyebrow up, daring the other man to continue his line of thought.

"You can't navigate the Javelin alone," Kal related, his voice sounding more tired than Bruce had ever heard before.

"I'm blind, not stupid. I'll just ask Lex to recommend someone."

Bruce knew he hadn't imagined the irritation that filtered into Kal's voice, "You're asking Lex to recommend someone to accompany you in an intergalactic trip?" Mentioning Lex had been one Bruce's stroke of genius; in that counterpart's world, Lex was a greedy and opportunistic villain. There was no way Kal would accept this proposal.

"Yes," Bruce replied with a bit of feigned impatience at repeating himself.

Kal fell quiet. Bruce could feel him move his head, probably to look at his Batman's corpse.

"Can I come with you?" Kal's uncertain voice replied.

"Why would you want to come? Don't you have your own world to return to?" Bruce pretended to be surprised.

Kal swallowed, "I... don't feel like returning right now. But, I understand if you don't want to have me around seeing as..."

"You're not him," Bruce cut in, having prepared himself to sound convinced.

"But..." Kal's broken voice responded, "I'll become like him..."

"You're nothing like him. You're kind and brave in a way he never was," Bruce lied as he reached out with his hand to find Kal's face. His hand made their way into his hair, disentangling them as he would have with his children. He could feel Kal's breathing becoming erratic, his whole body shaking under Bruce's gentle reassurance. The human had no doubt Kal was crying.

People had often accused Bruce of lacking compassion for his best friend's loss. It wasn't that Bruce didn't feel: he just didn't deem himself worthy of comforting anyone. Diana had always been better at it. And, despite her proficiency, she had failed.

Bruce's desperate tactic was doomed to fail, Bruce knew, but he had to try something, anything. Maybe the change of scenery would be enough to reverse the twisted fate Joker had conferred on both Supermans.

Joker couldn't be the ultimate victor.

"If you really want to come with me, it's time to say farewell to your friend."

Bruce felt Kal nodded and slowly discontinued the contact. Bruce heard him whisper something before quieting down (praying, Bruce guessed).

Bruce told his own silent goodbyes, not so much forgiving nor absolving his former friend (Bruce had doubts he could ever do either), but remembering the bittersweet memories of when the world made sense. It was a luxury he hadn't often granted himself to enjoy. Finally, he composed his own parting farewell in his head.

"Clark, you were the one who once told me: “Sometimes, you have to take a leap of faith first. The trust part comes later.” You believed in me long before I believed in you. I was proud to be your friend.

I refuse to let your ultimate legacy be being someone else's Joker and ruining all we once both stood for. I'm not hopeful I'll fix anything, but I'll keep fighting for what's right. Goodbye Clark."

The Kryptonian stood again and walked back to Bruce's side, "Ready to go?"

Bruce simply nodded. He managed not to wince when the Kryptonian picked him up. For today, he decided, that was what victory felt like.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can skip the notes if you want; it's geeky reference stuff about the last two chapters.
> 
> 1) In the last chapter, with some knowledge about the comics, there was a clue as to whom Evil Superman was talking about when he talked about losing it all. The words: "the one I confide in; the one who understands me the best; the one I'd come to miss more than any other" are almost word for word from (canon!) comics of Batman/Superman concerning Superman's relationship with Batman. It came in a storyline commonly referred to as Superman's Joker in which one of Superman's villain hate him so much they pull a "Joker" on him. In this fic, Good (ambiguously so after this chapter) Superman's Joker is Evil (and somewhat older) Superman.
> 
> 2) The idea of (other) Bruce getting had by Evil Superman was actually inspired by the Injustice inspirational source material: the Justice Lords episode in the Justice League tv series. My inspiration came from the Justice League Beyond comic books (as in the Batman Beyond timeline for those of you who know this) when (spoilers) Justice League's (good) Diana goes back to the Justice Lord world to help out Lord Batman (who's now a good guy) against Lord Superman (still evil) and Lord Wonder Woman (still evil). The two couples (yup, in that universe, Lord Batman/(good) Diana and Lord Superman/Lord Diana are items) are in their final battle. (good) Diana is sent against Lord Diana and Lord Superman to slow them down enough for Lord Batman to finish his Kryptonite powered batsuit. During a fight between (good) Diana and Lord Superman, Lord Diana slips away and pretends to be wounded (good) Diana in front of Lord Batman. He lowers his guard to help her and gets killed. (good) Diana arrives on the scene and, in her anger and pain, she strangles Lord Diana with the Lasso of truth. That part of the story inspired my "Batman got captured and killed by Injustice Superman and (good) Superman loses his head and kills Injustice Superman". 
> 
> If you're curious about the continuation of (good) Diana and Lord Superman losing their lovers, (spoilers) they get married in a political marriage that is exactly 0% love and 100% hatred. They even engineer a child (with technology, of course, they are not sleeping with each other). They fight on Diana's original Earth, things happen (meaning blah blah blah), their son joins that world's Justice League (in which original Superman is still active and good) and Diana stays on her Earth, meeting both original Batman (who's retired) and Superman. End of useless parenthesis.
> 
> 3) The quote “Sometimes, you have to take a leap of faith first. The trust part comes later” comes from the 2013 Man of Steel movie even though it's not Superman who says it in the movie. It just seemed fitting for the character to say it in his comic book universe.


	23. Hoped

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce and Superman go on a "road trip" to heal.

Excerpts from Clark's personal journal  
-1st day-

 

 

 

 

Bruce is dead.

 

 

 

 

 

B offered to go away on a "road trip." He just wants to keep me under his watch to make sure I don't become...

I take him up on his offer anyway. Not that it matters.

The only stop we made before going away was Lex Luthor. B talked to him about us going on a "road trip." All that's important is that we took the Javelin and departed without anyone hindering us. I refused B's suggestion that I at least leave a message for my parents and my fiancee. He just looked disappointed- about the same as when he learned I didn't keep my promise.

We wrote some ground rules:

1) I call him "B" and he calls me "L". We do not wear Superman's and Batman's suit.

2) I can't move anything around except in my room.

3) We rotate the duties that can be rotated.

4) No killing (I think no suicide was also heavily implied by him) and no physical self-harm or medicating (very heavily implied by me).

5) When we can't be around the other, we name our most hated colour (orange for him and grey for me) and the other knows to leave us alone for a few hours at least.

6) We can't enter each other's room(that's why I leave my journal here).

7) I help him by being his "eyes" until a prototype helper can be finished.

8) Neither of us can force the other to talk (he insisted on this one).

9) If we have an issue about the other's behaviour, we bring it up in a clear and unaggressive manner, we don't keep it bottled up (I insisted on this one).

10) We install safety plans and measures in case we get attacked.

11) We don't need to be together to explore another planet (he insisted on this one), but we have to let the other one know we are gone, we have to bring comms with us and we have to call for help if we get in trouble (that was the only way I could accept the first part of this rule-he grumbled a lot at this one).

12) He always keeps the Kryptonite I found in Bruce's utility belt on his person(I can't bear being the one responsible for hurting him).

***  
-2nd day-

Grey.

 

***  
-3rd day-

The Javelin was damaged in a war between two alien nations. We stopped the hostilities, broked a truce and got an upgrade to our ship out of the deal. B hates holding on to my shoulder (and he refused to be carried around too) when we have to get around on a new planet. I'm not surprised.

 

***  
-7th day-

I wonder why I came.

I hate being enclosed between walls for extended periods of time.

The food is seal-packed and bland.

B is frustrated his prototype of a robot to serve as his eyes isn't going well. He's not graceful in his frustration and I'm not as patient as I ought to be. He barely speaks to me and when he does, it's in a clipped tone.

***  
-8th day-

Finally, we found a nice planet to visit; they made exquisite music and clothes.

I feel stupid I didn't get why B chose "L" as my name until now. It was "El" as in "Kal El", not the letter "L". I even read all the "L" section in the dictionary to guess which word he had shortened.

 

I cried and cried until I had no more tears again tonight. It's always the stupid things that hit me: the bets we made about who would complain first about a mission (normally Hal), our conversation on the eve of your first Father's day with Dick, the way you would go all out on April first to outdo Alfred (and you'd inevitably fail) or the way you ate finger food with a fork and a knife... How long can this go on, Bruce?

***  
-14th day-

B took on sewing.

I almost spat out my tea when I saw him try to make clothes (not only patching them). I admit he has a certain talent.

Did you also have in interest in clothing or is this because he's another person or is it because he's blind and his physical comfort is now his priority or is it because he doesn't have to keep up the Bruce Wayne appearance or is it because there's no insurgency to take care of?

***  
-16th day-

I miss physical contact. The only contact I've had since your death was when B was forced to rely on my help to navigate his blindness.

I want a hug. Is that too much to ask?

***  
-20th day-

B's nightmares have steadily grown worse in the past three days. He's avoiding me as if I'm the pest.

Our trajectory has changed.

***  
-23rd day-

He's sick. Really sick. It took me too long to figure out he was hiding it because of him avoiding me.

I'm doing what I can to cure him.

I don't want him to die. It's already so hollow since your death.

If he survives, I'm adding a new rule: 13) Take care of your health! If you don't feel fine, seek help. I'm already wording my arguments.

***  
-25th day-

He's much better now. He even consciously let me take his hand in mine. It's so warm I want to nestle against it but I know that would be stretch the peace we've painfully built between us.

B insists we have to visit a planet soon. I agree.

***  
-29th day-

We separated on the planet. It is known as an inhabited one and I saw why today. It's bare, dusty, cold and grey. B just wants to take samples of everything and he refused my help by saying I should stop "hovering".

Funny that's always the exact wording you used when dismissing my concerns... He's you and not, all at once. 

....I hope he doesn't feel that way about me.

***  
-31st day-

This time, we disembarked in a populated area.

I suggested it would be easier if we hold hands instead of him putting a hand on my shoulder. B used his eyes-shut death stare. Thinking it over, it is impressive to be as expressive eyes shut as you with your eyes opened.

After a while, I noticed he was tiring and I brought him back to our ship. I was insulted when he insisted (i.e. made a comparison between me and a dog in need of a walk) I go back. I went just to get some space away from his 'moodiness'.

I'm glad I did. It was nice to find out our standard translator piece seems to be good enough to function. The people, Z'Tklol, were kind and welcoming to strangers.

I helped them bend some of their metal into the right shape for a "quolla" which, from my understanding, is a celebration welcoming a new child into the world. They have an interesting ritual in which they burn the child's second antenna (that doesn't hurt, apparently) to make them attuned to the world's words. "Perfection needs a touch of imperfection," are the words they seem to repeat most often in their explanations.

I stayed for the traditional feast (something that looks like burnt snake combined with gooey feather-shaped fruit-tasting jelly). As a thank you for my help, they let me make a toast. I recited your eulogy, Bruce, after all this time I had written it down. Nobody understands a word I said and it's perfect that way. There are no social norms to respect.

It's only once I'm back on the ship I figure out B seemed to have predicted I had to be there to process your loss. 

***  
-64th day-

We have a new routine going on. B takes my hand for our initial visits on new planets, but I had to learn a complicated hand communication to fulfill his curiosity. If there's anything being B's eyes taught me is that I need to train my eyes to naturally filter the warning signs and transmit the basic information necessary: exit locations, number of "people" in our vicinity, distance to the nearest one, any hint of magic or technology affecting our surrounding (though B distrusts me with that aspect) and any signs anyone is playing us.

Passing the time has also grown more productive in my case; gone are the days where I would stare at the ceilings or windows aimlessly during my downtime. Ever since my rendering of your eulogy, I've started reading books and watching movies. In the beginning, I couldn't see or read anything too joyous; that's why I chose to focus on classic Russian literature and tragedies. Jokes and comedies filled me with trepidation and blandness. Surprisingly enough, B's Earth's classics were pretty much the exact same as on our Earth: the variants were entertaining to catch. 

Despite all those breakthrough, the thing that has improved the most is my relationship with B. Gone are the days where we'd each done our business alone (except when B was forced to ask for some help to complete his tasks). Nowadays, we discuss books, destinations or anything that's not part of forbidden subjects. When I explore a planet without him, I always try to bring something to stimulate his curiosity; be it the texture, the taste, the smell or the sound of it. He pretends he's just entertaining me when he accepts something, however, I can see the subtle changes in his micro-expression that confirms he enjoys the gifts. I know better than to force the issue. 

***  
-66th day-

I ruined everything.

I should have known bringing up Russian literature in B's company was a terrible idea. 

I should have known we would eventually circle back to Dostoevsky's Crimes and Punishment. 

From then, it was inevitable we'd talk of calculating a person's life's worth in the grand scheme of things and of how redemption and happiness work.

I was too engrossed in my arguments concerning Raskolnikov's futile struggles to comprehend the book's importance to B... 

It was only after the blowup I figured out this was one of B's pillar embedded in his no-killing stance. I knew you choose the no-killing stance after you confronted your parents' killer and found him pathetic. Still, I should have known, B, similarly to you, wouldn't just rely on one profound feeling to establish a conviction out of it. You'd find compelling arguments to surround the feeling.

I should have calmed down instead of agitatedly claiming killing someone didn't always come with regret. 

I knew, then and there, I should have stayed mum on the subject, I should have lost the argument. It cost me too much to win... 

His face... crumbled. 

That's the fairest word I can find to describe his reaction. 

I was fool enough not to pretend I had regrets about killing this world's monster... this world's me...

He fled. 

From.

Me.

I had razed in one careless sentence what had taken us two months to build. 

 

He... When he was sick, he moaned once 'his' name. His 'Clark'. 

He loved him. 

I don't know when or how. 

It just made me hate him more.

For killing you.

For raping B. 

For happily bragging about it.

For being... 

Me

Even at his worst.

 

***  
-67th day-

 

It was hard to ignore his taunts in the mirror. 

His barbed whispers. His casual accusations. His words about his worth, mine... ours. 

 

B hasn't gone out of his room.

***  
-68th day-

I... broke the mirror.

***  
-69th day-

B ate the food I left outside his door. 

***  
-70th day-

For the first time since the Dostoevsky incident, I slept. 

I dreamt I killed B. 

I panicked.

I broke down his door. 

He was alive... And furious. I calmed down and disappeared.

He came for lunch and he let me talk. Once it started, I couldn't turn it off. 

I told him it was my fault Diana hadn't come on the mission. 

(That I had switched Diana's and my mission at the last minute behind your back... I had arranged a celebration with your immediate family for your twentieth birthday as Batman. It was my idea, so it was mine to execute. After our return from our mission decoding the signals, we would have celebrated the good you had done to the world in your years as Batman. You'd always focus on your failures, your mistakes, but that's not what your life was all about. No, you're kind, gentle and brave. I just wanted to show a token of our appreciation. I failed even that simple task by getting you killed.)

I told him it was my fault you stayed to help.

I told him I was the one who rousted the monster. 

I told him I failed to save you. 

 

He drank his water. 

(Do you know what he told me? Would you have told me the same thing?) 

He told me it was his fault we were brought to that world. 

He told me it was his plan that had been wrongly executed. 

He told me it was his fault your life had been put at risk. It was his fault his Clark had been obsessed with him. 

He told me it was his fault he didn't consider the price we'd pay for helping his world. 

He told me it was his fault his kids, Selina and Alfred died.

He told me it was his fault for not being there when his Clark needed him the most. 

He told me it was his fault for being too weak to stop his Clark from killing Joker.

He told me it was his fault Joker...

I interrupted him. Told him he wasn't to blame for anything. He vehemently disagreed. Like idiots, we fought over blame; each claiming we were its legitimate owner and the other only had an illusory claim to it.

We yelled at one another. 

And B ended up emptying his water at me. 

There was a strange silence.

Then, we just laughed. 

Until we cried...

Then, we fell asleep against one another in the mess we'd left the common area. 

***  
-71st day-

Drained.

 

***  
-72nd day-

Clean up. 

A short visit on a green planet. 

***  
-75th day-

I found a strange creature and I brought it back to the ship for B to study him. The creature refuses to go back to his planet. We let him stay. 

***  
-76th day-

B insists the "pet" creature needs a name. I shrug it off, knowing full well B will eventually name him and that'll incriminate him in the adoption. 

***  
-80th day-

B named it "Ace".

It's not often I get to be more obstinate than him. I try not to rub it in too much (I'm pretty sure I'm failing; B keeps "glaring" at me).

***  
-95th day-

B gives me a shirt made from materials we've amassed from a variety of planets. I like it. Not just because it's smooth and comfortable in a way nothing had ever felt before, but because of what it means. It's the first physical gift he has given me.

(Note to self: never, ever, tell him the colours don't coordinate with one another or he might just rip it apart and restart.)

 

***  
-102nd day-

Yesterday has been tough on B. Again.

He used "orange".

 

***  
-105th day- 

Things have been flowing better between us. 

 

I miss you. I miss Lois. I miss my parents. I miss the League and their endless bickering. I miss Perry's orders and Jimmy's enthusiasm. I miss my neighbour and her aggressive cat. 

I miss pie.

 

***  
-145th day-

B kept observation notes. 

About.

Me. 

Ace found them and brought it to me yesterday. He probably thought it was a game of fetch. 

I read them. All of them. You had taught me that "secret" code.

Some of it was simply interesting. For example, part of his reasoning for his choice of destinations was based on his guilt. Since many Lanterns lost their lives to help Earth, B's plan was to try to help some of their native planets as a way to redeem Earth. 

The section I read more critically was the one about his Clark and... me.

In it, he explained why his Clark went mad at shouldering his grief and the world's burdens; it helped confuse his sense of responsibility and his guilt with his convictions. How Diana tended to bring out Clark's inhumanity and ruthlessness. How his family's happiness had been his way to alleviate his acute loneliness. How his Clark had felt more alone at their death; he'd been searching for another family in whoever he could find, even Bruce... According to B's note, his Clark's self-hatred was based on his guilt and his poor opinion about his own worth. He hated me because I represented the possibilities he no longer had and because it was the subconscious expression of his self-hatred.

B then detailed his reasoning of how to curtail the danger I posed to the world while avoiding complete isolation. He needed to restrain me, to bind me until I could correctly grieve, away from the burden of my responsibilities. Then, and only after I had grieved in a healthy way, we would return to our respective Earths. He'd stay in his Earth cleaning up the mess left by his Clark and I'd go back to having a family with Lois as if nothing had happened. We would then all agree to close the portal between our world and never see or communicate with one another again. 

That would be our best case scenario.

...How the heck can such a brilliant man be so dumb!?! 

(No offence Bruce, but, really sometimes, you too can be quite dumb when you want to.)

Why couldn't he revise his plan after the obvious flaw in it became clear? (Just as a side-note, he did make other types of revisions in his outlaid plan. It clearly wasn't fixed in stone.)

Bruce, surely, you can't blame me for getting my revenge. B's actions certainly warranted it. 

I didn't even make a huge scene over the way he more or less treated me as a specimen of an experiment. 

No, I just switched all the non-dangerous (and non-emergency) items except what's in his room to another place on the ship.

It took him an hour this morning to find where I had hidden the food. 

I know I'm being petty, but, can you really blame me for it? 

I think he's even relieved I chose this way to get vengeance compared to having another fallout. 

***  
-153rd day-

We found another planet in the midst of a civil war. It's always the same. Heartbreaking. 

We stole the technology some found sacrilegious and others found necessary for their survival. Both were true; they were both life-ending weapons and necessary to produce food to feed everyone. We stayed three days to negotiate some sort of truce. 

I hope they follow it through to a permanent treaty of some sort.

***  
-154th day-

I dreamt of B being tortured again. 

He let me come into his room when I knocked on his door. He even let me hold him against my chest until I fell asleep. 

His presence always abates my fears. 

It's too bad I can't help him in the same way when he's in pain. My voice, my smell and my touch only set him off when he's in a bad spot. The most I can do is play something comforting (I've become handy with something that looks like a flute) and bring him water. 

***  
-164th day-

It's Gart'Mniel day on Thy_in (is that how you write it?). Meaning, it rains shards of 'tiers', a condensed liquid mineral closely associated with hope on Thy_in. 

I brought some back to B for his growing collection. He's grumbling we will soon run out of room for them. I know he doesn't mean it. 

I like the way he hums when he reviews his collection. He's always such a perfectionist. Except he can't colour code anything, making for some strange visual arrangements. 

On another note, B hasn't been obsessively working on his "eyes" in a while. I don't think he's entirely given up having a machine curb his reliance on me, however, he seems to have somehow softened up on that front. 

***  
-170th day-

B asked me if I wanted to go back. Since we've been zigzagging around, it would take us less than two weeks to find Earth. He thinks I'm already ready.

I stalled. 

***  
-183rd day-

B asked me again. 

I told him no. 

He gently told me it's been over half a year. My parents and fiancee are still waiting. 

I feel guilty for wanting to keep what I have right now at the price of their peace of mind. Still, I know I have to fight for us. 

(It's funny, Bruce. Some people may think I replaced you with him, but I've never loved you that way. I've often confronted myself with it over the years. How was it possible I had a stronger connection to you than with my fiancee? Was there something wrong with me?

No matter how pivotal you were in my life, I never was attracted to you, sexually or romantically.

With B, I knew it was different from the start. We had a spark that was disturbing and strange because it meant I could fall in love with someone with the same soul and body as you but with different life experiences. I'm not even pretending I understand how that works.)

 

I have to fight for us because he sure won't. 

I love him. 

He loves me. 

(I'm not delusional or anything. Sometimes, we just sit down and hold hands even when there's no trauma involved. I bring him gifts and he sometimes "regifts" some transformed ones. When we go our separate ways on a planet, even for an hour, we miss each other. When we find each other again, it's like our worlds become whole again.)

I'm stalling because he's not ready to hear the words. 

Maybe he'll never be. 

However, if there's anything this "road trip" has taught me is that hopes are not bandaids hurryingly put on wounds; it's more like diligently watering and treating well your plants. Many things outside my control may or may not change their ultimate fate, but I'm the only person that can tend to my hopes' care. 

My hopes are fragile things easily swayed by this world's harshness. In spite of it, they steadily grow stronger and more resilient. 

In the meantime, I find it reassuring B lets me stall knowing full well what I'm trying to accomplish. 

I take it to mean he's at least sporadically watering his hopes too. 

At least, that's one of my hopes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you are wondering about all the other characters' fate in this story, let's just say it's almost the same as the original Injustice ending except Lex Luthor and Kate Kane are alive and helping out the recovery of the world while Superman and Batman are dead/absent. Diana is still imprisoned on Themyscrya; Damian is jailed at max security; Barry and Billy Batson (he's not dead in this story) changed sides before battle and are helping the rebuilding of the world; Hal Jordan has been imprisoned by the Green Lantern Corp for all of his actions; Ma and Pa Kent are waiting for someone to break them out of the Fortress of Solitude; Tim and the rest of the Teen Titans (still alive) are waiting to be rescued out of the Phantom Zone. The counterparts have gone back home with the news of Bruce's demise and Superman's disappearance. Harley Quinn and Barbara Gordon are helping the rebuilding of the world. 
> 
> If you want to have some fun, you can compare this chapter's events with the ones in the earlier chapters with Injustice Superman and captive Batman. 
> 
> I had a lot of fun writing this. I hope you similarly enjoyed the story. 
> 
> Thanks for your comments and kudos! They certainly helped motivate me.


End file.
